THE 
LITTLE  COLONEL  STORIES 

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Works  of 
ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON 


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the  Little  Colonel 
Stories 

By  ANNIE  FELLOWS  JOHNSTON 

Author  of  "  The  Little  Colonel  Books,"  "  Bl£  Brother," 
"  Asa  Holmes,"  "  Ole  Mammy's  Torment,"  etc. 

Illustrated  by   ETHELDRED  B.  BARRY 


BOSTON  *  L.  C.  PAGE 
&  COMPANY  *  PUBLISHERS 


Copyright,  1895 
BY  JOSEPH  KNIGHT  COMPANY 

Copyright,  1898 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 

Copyright,  1899 
BY  L.  C.  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

(INCORPORATED) 
A II  rights  reserved 


Seventeenth   Impression,  June,  1909 


a/37 


TABLE  OF  CONTENTS 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

THE    GIANT   SCISSORS 

TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

PAGE 

THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  .  .  .  Frontispiece 
'••'CAUSE  I'M  so  MUCH  LIKE  YOU,'  WAS  THE 

STARTLING  ANSWER  "  .  .  .  .  .  9 

•'  THE  SAME  TEMPER  SEEMED  TO  BE  BURNING 

IN  THE  EYES  OF  THE  CHILD  "  .  .26 

"  WITH  THE  PARROT  PERCHED  ON  THE  BROOM 

SHE    WAS    CARRYING  "     .  .  .  .  -42 

"THE    LITTLE    COLONEL    CLATTERED    UP    AND 

DOWN  THE  HALL"        .....  48 

"  SINGING  AT  THE  TOP  OF  HER  VOICE"  .  .  55 
"'TELL  ME  GOOD-BY,  BABY  DEAR,'  SAID  MRS. 

SHERMAN" 69 

"  '  AMANTHIS,'  REPEATED  THE  CHILD  DREAMILY  "  77 

"SHE  CLIMBED  UP  IN  FRON'T  OF  THE  MIRROR"  9! 
"THE  SWEET  LITTLE  VOICE  SANG  IT  TO  THE 

END" 97 

THE    GIANT    SCISSORS 

JULES 10 

WHERE  JOYCE  LIVED 17 

"'HE  IS  STOPPING  AT  THE  GATE'"  .         .         .21 

THE  KING'S  SONS 27 

"HE  CUT  IT  LOOSE  AND  CARRIED  IT  HOME"    .       39 

THE  PRINCESS 41 

"HE  LAID  HIS  HEAD  ON  THE  SILL".         .         .       56 
"  IT  FELL  TO  THE  FLOOR  WITH  A  CRASH"        .      6l 
OUT  WITH  MARIE        ......       67 

"  HE  CAME  TOWARDS    HKR  WITH    A   DAZED    EX- 
PRESSION ON  HS  FACE"       ....       75 

INITIAL  LETTER 80 

A  LESSON  iv  PATRIOTISM 89 

TRYING  TO  READ        ......       95 

"'On,  IF  JACK  COULD  ONLY  SEE  IT!'"  .  .  108 
" '  BROSSARD,  BEWARE!  BEWARE!'"  .  .  .115 
•'  THE  CHILD  CREPT  CLOSE  TO  THE  CHEERFUL 

FIRE"    .  ,121 


LIST    OF    ILLUSTRATIONS 

PAGE 

JOYCE  AND  SISTER  DENISA        .        .        .        .127 

NUMBER  THIRTY-ONE.        .        .        .        .         .     134 

"  JULES  CAME  OVER,  AWKWARD  AND  SHY"  .  141 
"  SITTING  UP  IN  BED  WITH  THE  QUILTS  WRAPPED 

AROUND  HIM  " 149 

'"THAT'S  NUMBER  THIRTY-ONE'"  .  .  .161 
"WALKING  UP  AND  DOWN  THE  PATHS"  .  1 66 

"KEEPING  TIME  TO  THE  MUSIC"  .  .  .  1 80 
"  HE  TOOK  THE  LITTLE  FELLOW'S  HAND  IN  HIS"  185 

TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY 

PLANS 10 

"  BEHIND  HIM  CAME  A  BOY   NO  LARGER   THAN 

KEITH" 17 

"ACROSS  THE  SNOWY  FIELDS"   ....       27 

VIRGINIA .        .34 

«  '  THE  PRETTIEST  VALENTINE  OF  ALL  MUST  GO 

TO  POOR  PAPA  '  " 43 

'"  DAPHNE,  WHAT'S  DEM  CHILLUN  ALLUZ  RACIN' 

DOWN  TO  DE  SPRING-HOUSE  FO' ? '"  .  .  51 
'"I  HATE  TO  GO  OFF  AND  LEAVE  HIM  IN  THE 

DARK    "  .......         62 

"  WITH  THE  TALL  SILVER  CANDLESTICK  HELD 

HIGH  IN  BOTH  HANDS"  ....  67 
"  '  WILL  YOU  KEEP  IT  TO  REMEMBER  ME  BY  ?  '  "  73 
"  HE  WAS  CRYING  VIOLENTLY  NOW  "  .  .  .89 
"  THERE  WAS  ONE  BOOK  WHICH  KEITH  CARRIED 

AROUND  WITH  HIM"  .....  103 

BEAUTY  AND  THE  BEAST no 

"'I'D  LIKE  TO  BE  A  KNIGHT  ALWAYS'"  .  .  IlS 
"  THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  HAD  BEEN  LOWERED 

INTO  A  DEEP  FEED-BIN"  .  .  .  .127 
THE  RESCUE  .  .  .  .  „  .  .131 

VIRGINIA  AND  THE  CALF 145 

"«GIVE  ME  MY  BOW'" 151 

"NOBODY  CAME" 158 

"  LIVE  PURE,  SPEAK  TRUTH,  RIGHT  THE  WRONG, 

FOLLOW    THE    KING.      ELSE    WHEREFORE 

BORN?" 172 

"THERE    WERE    THREE    WITH    HIM"      .  .  .185 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 

(Trade  Mark) 


TO  ONE  OF 

KENTUCKY'S  DEARKST  LITTLE  DAUGHTERS 

"C&e  little  Colonel"  t>ergelf 

THIS   REMEMBRANCE   OF  A   HAPPY   SUMMER 
IS  AFFECTIONATELY   INSCRIBED 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 


CHAPTER    I. 

IT  was  one  of  the  prettiest  places  in  all 
Kentucky  where  the  Little  Colonel  stood  that 
morning1.  She  was  reaching  up  on  tiptoes,  her 
eager  little  face  pressed  close  against  the  iron 
bars  of  the  great  entrance  gate  that  led  to  a 
fine  old  estate  known  as  "  Locust." 

A  ragged  little  Scotch  and  Skye  terrier  stood 
on  its  hind  feet  beside  her,  thrusting  his  inquisi- 
tive nose  between  the  bars,  and  wagging  his 
tasselled  tail  in  lively  approval  of  the  scene  be- 
fore them. 

They  were  looking  down  a  long  avenue  that 
stretched  for  nearly  a  quarter  of  a  mile  between 
rows  of  stately  old  locust-trees. 


2  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

At  the  far  end  they  could  see  the  white  pil- 
lars of  a  large  stone  house  gleaming  through 
the  Virginia  creeper  that  nearly  covered  it. 
But  they  could  not  see  the  old  Colonel  in  his 
big  chair  on  the  porch  behind  the  cool  screen 
of  vines. 

At  that  very  moment  he  had  caught  the  rattle 
of  wheels  along  the  road,  and  had  picked  up 
his  field-glass  to  see  who  was  passing.  It  was 
only  a  coloured  man  jogging  along  in  the  heat 
and  dust  with  a  cart  full  of  chicken-coops. 
The  Colonel  watched  him  drive  up  a  lane  that 
led  to  the  back  of  the  new  hotel  that  had  just 
been  opened  in  this  quiet  country  place.  Then 
his  glance  fell  on  the  two  small  strangers  com- 
ing through  his  gate  down  the  avenue  toward 
him.  One  was  the  friskiest  dog  he  had  ever 
seen  in  his  life.  The  other  was  a  child  he 
judged  to  be  about  five  years  old. 

Her  shoes  were  covered  with  dust,  and  her 
white  sunbonnet  had  slipped  off  and  was  hang- 
ing over  her  shoulders.  A  bunch  of  wild 
flowers  she  had  gathered  on  the  way  hung 
limp  and  faded  in  her  little  warm  hand.  Her 
soft,  light  hair  was  cut  as  short  as  a  boy's. 

There    was    something    strangely    familiar 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  3 

about  the  child,  especially  in  the  erect,  grace- 
ful way  she  walked. 

Old  Colonel  Lloyd  was  puzzled.  He  had 
lived  all  his  life  in  Lloydsborough,  and  this  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  failed  to  recognize 
one  of  the  neighbours'  children.  He  knew 
every  dog  and  horse,  too,  by  sight  if  not  by 
name. 

Living  so  far  from  the  public  road  did  not 
limit  his  knowledge  of  what  was  going  on  in 
the  world.  A  powerful  field-glass  brought 
every  passing  object  in  plain  view,  while  he 
was  saved  all  annoyance  of  noise  and  dust. 

"  I  ought  to  know  that  child  as  well  as  I 
know  my  own  name,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  But  the  dog  is  a  stranger  in  these  parts. 
Liveliest  thing  I  ever  set  eyes  on !  They  must 
have  come  from  the  hotel.  Wonder  what  they 
want." 

He  carefully  wiped  the  lens  for  a  better 
view.  When  he  looked  again  he  saw  that  they 
evidently  had  not  come  to  visit  him. 

They  had  stopped  half-way  down  the  avenue, 
and  climbed  up  on  a  rustic  seat  to  rest. 

The  dog  sat  motionless  about  two  minutes, 


4  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

his  red  tongue  hanging-  out  as  if  he  were  com- 
pletely exhausted. 

Suddenly  he  gave  a  spring,  and  bounded 
away  through  the  tall  blue  grass.  He  was 
back  again  in  a  moment,  with  a  stick  in  his 
mouth.  Standing  up  with  his  fore  paws  in 
the  lap  of  his  little  mistress,  he  looked  so  wist- 
fully into  her  face  that  she  could  not  refuse 
this  invitation  for  a  romp. 

The  Colonel  chuckled  as  they  went  tum- 
bling about  in  the  grass  to  find  the  stick  which 
the  child  repeatedly  tossed  away. 

He  hitched  his  chair  along  to  the  other  end 
of  the  porch  as  they  kept  getting  farther  away 
from  the  avenue. 

It  had  been  many  a  long  year  since  those  old 
locust-trees  had  seen  a'  sight  like  that.  Chil- 
dren never  played  any  more  under  their  digni- 
fied shadows. 

Time  had  been  (but  they  only  whispered  this 
among  themselves  on  rare  spring  days  like 
this)  when  the  little  feet  chased  each  other  up 
and  down  the  long  \valk,  as  much  at  home  as 
the  pewees  in  the  beeches. 

Suddenly  the  little  maid  stood  up  straight, 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  5 

and  began  to  sniff  the  air,  as  if  some  delicious 
odour  had  blown  across  the  lawn. 

"  Fritz,"  she  exclaimed,  in  delight,  "  I  'mell 
'trawberries !  " 

The  Colonel,  who  could  not  hear  the  remark, 
wondered  at  the  abrupt  pause  in  the  game. 
He  understood  it,  however,  when  he  saw  them 
wading  through  the  tall  grass,  straight  to  his 
strawberry  bed.  It  was  the  pride  of  his  heart, 
and  the  finest  for  miles  around.  The  first  ber- 
ries of  the  season  had  been  picked  only  the 
day  before.  Those  that  now  hung  temptingly 
red  on  the  vines  he  intended  to  send  to  his 
next  neighbour,  to  prove  his  boasted  claim  of 
always  raising  the  finest  and  earliest  fruit. 

He  did  not  propose  to  have  his  plans  spoiled 
by  these  stray  guests.  Laying  the  field-glass 
in  its  accustomed  place  on  the  little  table  beside 
his  chair,  he  picked  up  his  hat  and  strode  down 
the  walk. 

Colonel  Lloyd's  friends  all  said  he  looked 
like  Napoleon,  or  rather  like  Napoleon  might 
have  looked  had  he  been  born  and  bred  a  Ken- 
tuckian. 

He  made  an  imposing  figure  in  his  suit  of 
white  duck. 


6  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

The  Colonel  always  wore  white  from  May 
till  October. 

There  was  a  military  precision  about  him, 
from  his  erect  carriage  to  the  cut  of  the  little 
white  goatee  on  his  determined  chin. 

No  one  looking  into  the  firm  lines  of  his 
resolute  face  could  imagine  him  ever  abandon- 
ing a  purpose  or  being  turned  aside  when  he 
once  formed  an  opinion. 

Most  children  were  afraid  of  him.  The 
darkies  about  the  place  shook  in  their  shoes 
when  he  frowned.  They  had  learned  from  ex- 
perience that  "  ole  Marse  Lloyd  had  a  tigah  of 
a  tempah  in  him." 

As  he  passed  down  the  walk  there  were  two 
mute  witnesses  to  his  old  soldier  life.  A  spur 
gleamed  on  his  boot  heel,  for  he  had  just  re- 
turned from  his  morning  ride,  and  his  right 
sleeve  hung  empty. 

He  had  won  his  title  bravely.  He  had  given 
his  only  son  and  his  strong  right  arm  to  the 
Southern  cause.  That  had  been  nearly  thirty 
years  ago. 

He  did  not  charge  down  on  the  enemy  with 
his  usual  force  this  time.  The  little  head, 
gleaming  like  sunshine  in  the  strawberry  patch, 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  7 

reminded  him  so  strongly  of  a  little  fellow  who 
used  to  follow  him  everywhere,  —  Tom,  the 
sturdiest,  handsomest  boy  in  the  county,  — 
Tom,  whom  he  had  been  so  proud  of,  whom  he 
had  so  nearly  worshipped. 

Looking  at  this  fair  head  bent  over  the  vines, 
he  could  almost  forget  that  Tom  had  ever  out- 
grown his  babyhood,  that  he  had  shouldered  a 
rifle  and  followed  him  to  camp,  a  mere  boy,  to  be 
shot  down  by  a  Yankee  bullet  in  his  first  battle. 

The  old  Colonel  could  almost  believe  he  had 
him  back  again,  and  that  he  stood  in  the  midst 
of  those  old  days  the  locusts  sometimes  whis- 
pered about. 

He  could  not  hear  the  happiest  of  little  voices 
that  was  just  then  saying,  "  Oh,  Fritz,  isn't  you 
glad  we  came?  An'  isn't  you  glad  we've  got  a 
gran'fathah  with  such  good  'trawberries  ?  " 

It  was  hard  for  her  to  put  the  s  before  her 
consonants. 

As  the  Colonel  came  nearer  she  tossed  an- 
other berry  into  the  dog's  mouth.  A  twig 
snapped,  and  she  raised  a  startled  face  toward 
him. 

"  Suh?  "  she  said,  timidly,  for  it  seemed  to 
her  that  the  stern,  piercing  eyes  had  spoken. 


8  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  What  are  you  doing  here,  child  ? "  he 
asked,  in  a  voice  so  much  kinder  than  his  eyes 
that  she  regained  her  usual  self-possession  at 
once. 

"  Eatin'  'trawberries,"  she  answered,  coolly. 

"  Who  are  you,  anyway  ?  "  he  exclaimed, 
much  puzzled.  As  he  asked  the  question  his 
gaze  happened  to  rest  on  the  dog,  who  was 
peering  at  him  through  the  ragged,  elfish  wisps 
of  hair  nearly  covering  its  face,  with  eyes  that 
were  startlingly  human. 

"  'Peak  when  yo'ah  'poken  to,  Fritz,"  she 
said,  severely,  at  the  same  time  popping  an- 
other luscious  berry  into  her  mouth. 

Fritz  obediently  gave  a  long  yelp.  The  Colo- 
nel smiled  grimly. 

"  What's  your  name?  "  he  asked,  this  time 
looking  directly  at  her. 

"  Mothah  calls  me  her  baby,"  was  the  soft- 
spoken  reply,  "  but  papa  an'  Mom  Beck  they 
calls  me  the  Little  Cun'l." 

"  What  under  the  sun  do  they  call  you  that 
for?  "  he  roared. 

"  'Cause  I'm  so  much  like  you,"  was  the 
startling  answer. 


THE    LITTLE,    COLONEL  9 

"Like  me!"  fairly  gasped  the  Colonel. 
"  How  are  you  like  me?  " 

"  Oh,  I'm  got  such  a  vile  tempah,  an'  I 
stamps  my  foot  when  I  gets  mad,  an'  gets  all 
red  in  the  face.  An'  I  hollahs  at  folks,  an' 
looks  jus'  zis  way." 


She  drew  her  face  down  and  puckered  her 
lips  into  such  a  sullen  pout  thai  it  looked  as 
if  a  thunder-storm  had  passed  over  it.  The 
next  instant  she  smiled  up  at  him  serenely. 

The  Colonel  laughed.  "  What  makes  you 
think  I  am  like  that?  "  he  said.  "  You  never 
saw  me  before." 


IO  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  Yes,  I  have  too,"  she  persisted.  "  You's 
a-hangin'  in  a  gold  frame  over  ou'  mantel." 

Just  then  a  clear,  high  voice  was  heard  call- 
ing out  in  the  road. 

The  child  started  up  in  alarm.  "  Oh,  deah," 
she  exclaimed  in  dismay,  at  sight  of  the  stains 
on  her  white  dress,  where  she  had  been  kneel- 
ing on  the  fruit,  "  that's  Mom  Beck.  Now 
I'll  be  tied  up,  and  maybe  put  to  bed  for  run- 
nin'  away  again.  But  the  berries  is  mighty 
nice,"  she  added,  politely.  "  Good  mawnin', 
suh.  Fritz,  we  mus'  be  goin'  now." 

The  voice  was  coming  nearer. 

"  I'll  walk  down  to  the  gate  with  you,"  said 
the  Colonel,  anxious  to  learn  something  more 
about  his  little  guest. 

"  Oh,  you'd  bettah  not,  suh !  "  she  cried  in 
alarm.  "  Mom  Beck  doesn't  like  you  a  bit. 
She  just  hates  you !  She's  goin'  to  give  you 
a  piece  of  her  mind  the  next  time  she  sees  you. 
I  heard  her  tell  Aunt  Nervy  so." 

There  was  as  much  real  distress  in  the  child's 
voice  as  if  she  were  telling  him  of  a  promised 
flogging. 

"Lloyd!  Aw,  Lloy-eed!"  the  call  came 
again. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  I  I 

A  neat-looking  coloured  woman  glanced  in 
at  the  gate  as  she  was  passing  by,  and  then 
stood  still  in  amazement.  She  had  often  found 
her  little  charge  playing  along  the  roadside  or 
hiding  behind  trees,  but  she  had  never  before 
known  her  to  pass  through  any  one's  gate. 

As  the  name  came  floating  down  to  him 
through  the  clear  air,  a  change  came  over  the 
Colonel's  stern  face.  He  stooped  over  the 
child.  His  hand  trembled  as  he  put  it  under 
her  soft  chin,  and  raised  her  eyes  to  his. 

"  Lloyd,  Lloyd !  "  he  repeated,  in  a  puzzled 
way.  "  Can  it  be  possible  ?  There  certainly 
is  a  wonderful  resemblance.  You  have  my 
little  Tom's  hair,  and  only  my  baby  Elizabeth 
ever  had  such  hazel  eyes." 

He  caught  her  up  in  his  one  arm,  and  strode 
on  to  the  gate,  where  the  coloured  woman 
stood. 

"  Why,  Becky,  is  that  you  ?  "  he  cried,  rec- 
ognizing an  old,  trusted  servant  who  had  lived 
at  Locust  in  his  wife's  lifetime. 

Her  only  answer  was  a  sullen  nod. 

"Whose  child  is  this?"  he  asked,  eagerly, 
without  seeming  to  notice  her  defiant  looks. 
"  Tell  me  if  you  can." 


12  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  How  can  I  tell  you,  suh,"  she  demanded, 
indignantly,  "  when  you  have  fo'bidden  even 
her  name  to  be  spoken  befo'  you  ?  " 

A  harsh  look  came  into  the  Colonel's  eyes. 
He  put  the  child  hastily  down,  and  pressed  his 
lips  together. 

"  Don't  tie  my  sunbonnet,  Mom  Beck,"  she 
begged.  Then  she  waved  her  hand  with  an 
engaging  smile. 

"  Good-bye,  suh,"  she  said,  graciously. 
"  We've  had  a  mighty  nice  time !  " 

The  Colonel  took  off  his  hat  with  his  usual 
courtly  bow,  but  he  spoke  no  word  in  reply. 

When  the  last  flutter  of  her  dress1  had  dis- 
appeared around  the  bend  of  the  road,  he 
walked  slowly  back  toward  the  house. 

Half-way  down  the  long  avenue  where  she 
had  stopped  to  rest,  he  sat  down  on  the  same 
rustic  seat.  He  could  feel  her  soft  little  fingers 
resting  on  his  neck,  where  they  had  lain  when 
he  carried  her  to  the  gate. 

A  very  un-Napoleonlike  mist  blurred  his 
sight  for  a  moment.  It  had  been  so  long  since 
such  a  touch  had  thrilled  him,  so  long  since  any 
caress  had  been  given  him. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  1$ 

More  than  a  score  of  years  had  gone  by  since 
Tom  had  been  laid  in  a  soldier's  grave,  and  the 
years  that  Elizabeth  had  been  lost  to  him 
seemed  almost  a  lifetime. 

And  this  was  Elizabeth's  little  daughter. 
Something  very  warm  and  sweet  seemed  to 
surge  across  his  heart  as  he  thought  of  the 
Little  Colonel.  He  was  glad,  for  a  moment, 
that  they  called  her  that;  glad  that  his  only 
grandchild  looked  enough  like  himself  for 
others  to  see  the  resemblance. 

But  the  feeling  passed  as  he  remembered  that 
his  daughter  had  married  against  his  wishes, 
and  he  had  closed  his  doors  for  ever  against 
her. 

The  old  bitterness  came  back  redoubled  in  its 
force. 

The  next  instant  he  was  stamping  down  the 
avenue,  roaring  for  Walker,  his  body-servant, 
in  such  a  tone  that  the  cook's  advice  was  speed- 
ily taken :  "  Bettah  hump  yo'self  outen  dis 
heah  kitchen  befo'  de  ole  tigah  gits  to  lashin' 
roun'  any  pearter." 


CHAPTER    II. 

MOM  BECK  carried  the  ironing-board  out  of 
the  hot  kitchen,  set  the  irons  off  the  stove,  and 
then  tiptoed  out  to  the  side  porch  of  the  little 
cottage. 

"  Is  yo'  head  feelin'  any  bettah,  honey  ?  " 
she  said  to  the  pretty,  girlish-looking  woman 
lying  in  the  hammock.  "  I  promised  to  step 
up  to  the  hotel  this  evenin'  to  see  one  of  the 
chambah-maids.  I  thought  I'd  take  the  Little 
Cun'l  along  with  me  if  you  was  willin'.  She's 
always  wild  to  play  with  Mrs.  Wyford's  chil- 
dren up  there." 

"  Yes,  I'm  better,  Becky,"  was  the  languid 
reply.  "  Put  a  clean  dress  on  Lloyd  if  you  are 
going  to  take  her  out." 

Mrs.  Sherman  closed  her  eyes  again,  think- 
ing gratefully,  "Dear,  faithful  old  Becky! 
What  a  comfort  she  has  been  all  my  life,  first 
14 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  15 

as  my  nurse,  and  now  as  Lloyd's !  She  is 
worth  her  weight  in  gold !  " 

The  afternoon  shadows  were  stretching  long 
across  the  grass  when  Mom  Beck  led  the  child 
up  the  green  slope  in  front  of  the  hotel. 

The  Little  Colonel  had  danced  along  so  gaily 
with  Fritz  that  her  cheeks  glowed  like  wild 
roses.  She  made  a  quaint  little  picture  with 
such  short  sunny  hair  and  dark  eyes  shining 
out  from  under  the  broad-brimmed  white  hat 
she  wore. 

Several  ladies  who  were  sitting  on  the  shady 
piazza,  busy  with  their  embroidery,  noticed  her 
admiringly. 

"  It's  Elizabeth  Lloyd's  little  daughter,"  one 
of  them  explained.  "  Don't  you  remember 
what  a  scene  there  was  some  years  ago  when 
she  married  a  New  York  man?  Sherman,  I 
believe,  his  name  was,  Jack  Sherman.  He  was 
a  splendid  fellow,  and  enormously  wealthy. 
Nobody  could  say  a  word  against  him,  except 
that  he  was  a  Northerner.  That  was  enough 
for  the  old  Colonel,  though.  He  hates  Yankees 
like  poison.  He  stormed  and  swore,  and  for- 
bade Elizabeth  ever  coming  in  his  sight  again. 
He  had  her  room  locked  up,  and  not  a  soul  on 


1 6  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

the  place  ever  dares  mention  her  name  in  his 
hearing." 

The  Little  Colonel  sat  down  demurely  on  the 
piazza  steps  to  wait  for  the  children.  The 
nurse  had  not  finished  dressing  them  for  the 
evening. 

She  amused  herself  by  showing  Fritz  the 
pictures  in  an  illustrated  weekly.  It  was  not 
long  until  she  began  to  feel  that  the  ladies  were 
talking  about  her.  She  had  lived  among  older 
people  so  entirely  that  her  thoughts  were  much 
deeper  than  her  baby  speeches  would  lead  one 
to  suppose. 

She  understood  dimly,  from  what  she  had 
heard  the  servants  say,  that  there  was  some 
trouble  between  her  mother  and  grandfather. 
Now  she  heard  it  rehearsed  from  beginning  to 
end.  She  could  not  understand  what  they 
meant  by  "  bank  failures  "  and  "  unfortunate 
investments,"  but  she  understood  enough  to 
know  that  her  father  had  lost  nearly  all  his 
money,  and  had  gone  West  to  make  more. 

Mrs.  Sherman  had  moved  from  their  ele- 
gant New  York  home  two  weeks  ago  to  this 
little  cottage  in  Lloydsborough  that  her  mother 
had  left  her.  Instead  of  the  houseful  of 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL  IJ 

servants  they  used  to  have,  there  was  only 
faithful  Mom  Beck  to  do  everything. 

There  was  something  magnetic  in  the  child's 
eyes. 

Mrs.  Wyford  shrugged  her  shoulders  un- 
easily as  she  caught  their  piercing  gaze  fixed 
on  her. 

"  I  do  believe  that  little  witch  understood 
every  word  I  said,"  she  exclaimed. 

"  Oh,  certainly  not,"  was  the  reassuring  an- 
swer. "  She's  such  a  little  thing." 

But  she  had  heard  it  all,  and  understood 
enough  to  make  her  vaguely  unhappy.  Going 
home  she  did  not  frisk  along  with  Fritz,  but 
walked  soberly  by  Mom  Beck's  side,  holding 
tight  to  the  friendly  black  hand. 

"  We'll  go  through  the  woods,"  said  Mom 
Beck,  lifting  her  over  the  fence.  "  It's  not  so 
long  that  way." 

As  they  followed  the  narrow,  straggling  path 
into  the  cool  dusk  of  the  woods,  she  began  to 
sing.  The  crooning  chant  was  as  mournful  as 
a  funeral  dirge. 

•  -/ 

"  The  clouds  hang  heavy,  an'  it's  gwine  to  rain, 
Fa'well,  my  dyin'  friends. 


1 8  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

I'm  gwine  to  lie  in  the  silent  tomb. 
Fa'well,  my  dyin'  friends." 

A  muffled  little  sob  made  her  stop  and  look 
down  in  surprise. 

"  Why,  what's  the  mattah,  honey  ?  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Did  Emma  Louise  make  you  mad  ? 
Or  is  you  cryin'  'cause  you're  so  tiVd  ?  Come ! 
Ole  Becky'll  tote  her  baby  the  rest  of  the  way." 

She  picked  the  light  form  up  in  her  arms, 
and,  pressing  the  troubled  little  face  against  her 
shoulder,  resumed  her  walk  and  her  song. 

"  It's  a  world  of  trouble  we're  travellin'  through. 
Fa'well,  my  dyin'  friends." 

"  Oh,  don't,  Mom  Beck,"  sobbed  the  child, 
throwing  her  arms  around  the  woman's  neck, 
and  crying  as  though  her  heart  would  break. 

"  Land  sakes,  what  is  the  mattah  ?  "  she 
asked,  in  alarm.  She  sat  down  on  a  mossy 
log,  took  off  the  white  hat,  and  looked  into  the 
flushed,  tearful  face. 

"  Oh,  it  makes  me  so  lonesome  when  you 
sing  that  way,"  wailed  the  Little  Colonel.  "  I 
just  can't  'tand  it !  Mom  Beck,  is  my  mothah's 
heart  all  broken?  Is  that  why  she  is  sick  so 
much,  and  will  it  kill  her  suah  'nuff  ?  " 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  19 

'Who's  been  tellin'  you  such  nonsense?" 
asked  the  woman,  sharply. 

"  Some  ladies  at  the  hotel  were  talkin'  about 
it.  They  said  that  gran'fathah  didn't  love  her 
any  moah,  an'  it  was  just  a-killin'  her."  Mom 
Beck  frowned  fiercely. 

The  child's  grief  was  so  deep  and  intense 
that  she  did  not  know  just  how  to  quiet  her. 
Then  she  said,  decidedly,  "  Well,  if  that's  all 
that's  a-troublin'  you,  you  can  jus'  get  down  an' 
walk  home  on  yo'  own  laigs.  Yo'  mamma's 
a-grievin'  'cause  yo'  papa  has  to  be  away  all  the 
time.  She's  all  wo'n  out,  too,  with  the  work 
of  movin',  when  she's  nevah  been  use  to  doin' 
anything*.  But  her  heart  isn't  broke  any 
moah'n  my  neck  is." 

The  positive  words  'and  the  decided  toss 
Mom  Beck  gave  her  head  settled  the  matter 
for  the  Little  Colonel.  She  wiped  her  eyes  and 
stood  up  much  relieved. 

"  Don't  you  nevah  go  to  worryin'  'bout  what 
you  heahs,"  continued  the  woman.  "  I  tell  you 
p'intedly  you  cyarnt  nevah  b'lieve  what  you 
heahs." 

"  Why  doesn't  gran'fathah  love  my 
mothah  ?  "  asked  the  child,  as  they  came  in 


2O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

sight  of  the  cottage.  She  had  puzzled  over  the 
knotty  problem  all  the  way  home.  "  How 
can  papas  not  love  their  little  girls  ?  " 

"  'Cause  he's  stubbo'n,"  was  the  unsatis- 
factory answer.  "  All  the  Lloyds  is.  Yo' 
mamma's  stubbo'n,  an'  you's  stubbo'n  — " 

"  I'm  not !  "  shrieked  the  Little  Colonel, 
stamping  her  foot.  "  You  sha'n't  call  me 
names !  " 

Then  she  saw  a  familiar  white  hand  waving 
to  her  from  the  hammock,  and  she  broke  away 
from  Mom  Beck  with  very  red  cheeks  and  very 
bright  eyes. 

Cuddled  close  in  her  mother's  arms,  she  had 
a  queer  feeling  that  she  had  grown  a  great  deal 
older  in  that  short  afternoon. 

Maybe  she  had.  For  the  first  time  in  her 
little  life  she  kept  her  troubles  to  herself,  and 
did  not  once  mention  the  thought  that  was 
uppermost  in  her  mind. 

"  Yo'  great-aunt  Sally  Tylah  is  comin'  this 
mawnin',"  said  Mom  Beck,  the  day  after  their 
visit  to  the  hotel.  "  Do  fo'  goodness'  sake 
keep  yo'self  clean.  I'se  got  too  many  spring 
chickens  to  dress  to  think  'bout  dressin'  you 
up  again." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  21 

"  Did  I  evah  see  her  befo'  ?  "  que,stioned  the 
Little  Colonel. 

"  Why,  yes,  the  day  we  moved  heah.  Don't 
you  know  she  came  and  stayed  so  long,  and  the 
rockah  broke  off  the  little  white  rockin'-chair 
when  she  sat  down  in  it?  " 

"  Oh,  now  I  know !  "  laughed  the  child. 
"  She's  the  big  fat  one  with  curls  hangin' 
round  her  yeahs  like  shavin's.  I  don't  like  her, 
Mom  Beck.  She  keeps  a-kissin'  me  all  the 
time,  an'  a-'queezin'  me,  an'  tellin'  me  to  sit  on 
her  lap  an'  be  a  little  lady.  Mom  Beck,  I 
de'pise  to  be  a  little  lady." 

There  was  no  answer  to  her  last  remark. 
Mom  Beck  had  stepped  into  the  pantry  for 
more  eggs  for  the  cake  she  was  making. 

"  Fritz,"  said  the  Little  Colonel,  "  yo'  great- 
aunt  Sally  Tylah's  comin'  this  mawnin',  an'  if 
you  don't  want  to  say  '  howdy '  to  her  you'll 
have  to  come  with  me." 

A  few  minutes  later  a  resolute  little  figure 
squeezed  between  the  palings  of  the  garden 
fence  down  by  the  gooseberry  bushes. 

"  Now  walk  on  your  tiptoes,  Fritz !  "  com- 
manded the  Little  Colonel,  "  else  somebody 
will  call  us  back." 


22  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

Mom  Beck,  busy  with  her  extra  baking,  sup- 
posed she  was  with  her  mother  on  the  shady, 
vine-covered  porch. 

She  would  not  have  been  singing  quite  so 
gaily  if  she  could  have  seen  half  a  mile  up  the 
road. 

The  Little  Colonel  was  sitting  in  the  weeds 
by  the  railroad  track,  deliberately  taking  off 
her  shoes  and  stockings. 

"  Just  like  a  little  niggah,"  she  said,  delight- 
edly, as  she  stretched  out  her  bare  feet.  "  Mom 
Beck  says  I  ought  to  know  bettah.  But  it  does 
feel  so  good !  " 

No  telling  how  long  she  might  have  sat  there 
enjoying  the  forbidden  pleasure  of  dragging 
her  rosy  toes  through  the  warm  dust,  if  she  had 
not  heard  a  horse's  hoof-beats  coming  rapidly 
along1. 

"  Fritz,  it's  gran'fathah,"  she  whispered,  in 
alarm,  recognizing  the  erect  figure  of  the  rider 
in  its  spotless  suit  of  white  duck. 

"  Sh !  lie  down  in  the  weeds,  quick !  Lie 
down,  I  say !  " 

They  both  made  themselves  as  flat  as  possi- 
ble, and  lay  there  panting  with  the  exertion  of 
keeping  still. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  23 

Presently  the  Little  Colonel  raised  her  head 
cautiously. 

"  Oh,  he's  gone  down  that  lane!  "  she  ex- 
claimed. "  Now  you  can  get  up."  After  a 
moment's  deliberation  she  asked,  "  Fritz,  would 
you  rathah  have  some  'trawberries  an'  be  tied 
up  fo'  runnin'  away,  or  not  be  tied  up  and  not 
have  any  of  those  nice  tas'en  'trawberries?" 


CHAPTER    III. 

Two  hours  later,  Colonel  Lloyd,  riding 
down  the  avenue  under  the  locusts,  was  sur- 
prised by  a  novel  sight  on  his  stately  front 
steps. 

Three  little  darkies  and  a  big  flop-eared 
hound  were  crouched  on  the  bottom  step,  look- 
ing up  at  the  Little  Colonel,  who.  sat  just  above 
them. 

She  was  industriously  stirring  something  in 
an  old  rusty  pan  with  a  big,  battered  spoon. 

"  Now,  May  Lilly,"  she  ordered,  speaking  to 
the  largest  and  blackest  of  the  group,  "  you 
run  an'  find  some  nice  'mooth  pebbles  to  put 
in  for  raisins.  Henry  Clay,  you  go  get  me 
some  moah  sand.  This  is  'most  too  wet." 

"  Here,  you  little  pickaninnies !  "   roared  the 

Colonel,  as  he  recognized  the  cook's  children. 

"  What  did  I  tell  you  about  playing  around 

here,  tracking  dirt  all  over  my  premises  ?    You 

24 


THE    LITTLE   COLONEL  25 

just  chase  back  to  the  cabin  where  you  be- 
long! " 

The  sudden  call  startled  Lloyd  so  that  she 
dropped  the  pan,  and  the  great  mud  pie  turned 
upside  down  on  the  white  steps. 

"  Well,  you're  a  pretty  sight !  "  said  the 
Colonel,  as  he  glanced  with  disgust  from  her 
soiled  dress  and  muddy  hands  to  her  bare  feet. 

He  had  been  in  a  bad  humour  all  morning. 
The  sight  of  the  steps  covered  with  sand  and 
muddy  tracks  gave  him  an  excuse  to  give  vent 
to  his  cross  feelings. 

It  was  one  of  his  theories  that  a  little  girl 
should  always  be  kept  as  fresh  and  dainty  as  a 
flower.  He  had  never  seen  his  own  little 
daughter  in  such  a  plight  as  this,  and  she  had 
never  been  allowed  to  step  outside  of  her  own 
room  without  her  shoes  and  .stockings. 

"  What  does  your  mother  mean,"  he  cried, 
savagely,  "  by  letting  you  run  barefooted 
around  the  country  just  like  poor  white 
trash?  An'  what  are  you  playing  with  low- 
flung  niggers  for?  Haven't  you  ever  been 
taught  any  better  ?  I  suppose  it's  some  of  your 
father's  miserable  Yankee  notions." 

May  Lilly,  peeping  around  the  corner  of  the 


26 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


house,   rolled   her   frightened   eyes   from  one 
angry    face    to    the 
other.       The     same 
temper    that    glared 
from  the  face  of  the 
man,  sitting  erect  in 
his  saddle,  seemed  to 
be    burning    in    the 
eyes    of    the    child 
who   stood   so 
defiantly      be- 
fore him. 

The  same 
kind  of  scowl 
drew  their 


eyebrows  together  darkly. 
"  Don't    you    talk    that 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  2/ 

way  to  me,"  cried  the  Little  Colonel,  trembling 
with  a  wrath  she  did  not  know  how  to  express. 

Suddenly  she  stooped,  Mid  snatching  both 
hands  full  of  mud  from  the  overturned  pie, 
flung  it  wildly  over  the  spotless  white  coat. 

Colonel  Lloyd  gasped  with  astonishment. 
It  was  the  first  time  in  his  life  he  had  ever  been 
openly  defied.  The  next  moment  his  anger 
gave  way  to  amusement. 

"  By  George !  "  he  chuckled,  admiringly. 
"  The  little  thing  has  got  spirit,  sure  enough. 
She's  a  Lloyd  through  and  through.  So  that's 
why  they  call  her  the  '  Little  Colonel,'  is  it?  " 

There  was  a  tinge  of  pride  in  the  look  he 
gave  her  haughty  little  head  and  flashing  eyes. 

"  There,  there,  child !  "  he  said,  soothingly. 
"  I  didn't  mean  to  make  you  mad,  when  you 
were  good  enough  to  come  and  see  me.  It  isn't 
often  I  have  a  little  lady  like  you  to  pay  me  a 
visit." 

"  I  didn't  come  to  see  you,  suh,"  she  an- 
swered, indignantly,  as  she  started  toward  the 
gate.  "  I  came  to  see  May  Lilly.  But  I  nevah 
would  have  come  inside  yo'  gate  if  I'd  known 
you  was  goin'  to  hollah  at  me  an'  be  so  cross." 

She  was  walking  off  with  the  air  of  an  of- 


28  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

fended  queen,  when  the  Colonel  remembered 
that  if  he  allowed  her  to  go  away  in  that  mood 
she  would  probably  never  set  foot  on  his 
grounds  again.  Her  display  of  temper  had 
interested  him  immensely. 

Now  that  he  had  laughed  off  his  ill  humour, 
he  was  anxious  to  see  what  other  traits  of  char- 
acter she  possessed. 

He  wheeled  his  horse  across  the  walk  to  bar 
her  way,  and  quickly  dismounted. 

"  Oh,  now,  wait  a  minute,"  he  said,  in  a 
coaxing  tone.  "  Don't  you  want  a  nice  big 
saucer  of  strawberries  and  cream  before  you 
go?  Walker's  picking  some  now.  And  you 
haven't  seen  my  hothouse.  It's  just  full  of  the 
loveliest  flowers  you  ever  saw.  You  like  roses, 
don't  you,  and  pinks  and  lilies  and  pansies  ?  " 

He  saw  he  had  struck  the  right  chord  as 
soon  as  he  mentioned  the  flowers.  The  sullen 
look  vanished  as  if  by  magic.  -Her  face  changed 
as  suddenly  as  an  April  day. 

"  Oh,  yes !  "  she  cried,  with  a  beaming 
smile.  "  I  loves  'm  bettah  than  anything !  " 

He  tied  his  horse,  and  led  the  way  to  the 
conservatory.  He  opened  the  door  for  her  to 
pass  through,  and  then  watched  her  closely  to 


THE    LITTLE   COLONEL  2Q 

see  what  impression  it  would  make  on  her. 
He  •  had  expected  a  delighted  exclamation  of 
surprise,  for  he  had  good  reason  to  be  proud 
of  his  rare  plants.  They  were  arranged  with 
a  true  artist's  eye  for  colour  and  effect. 

She  did  not  say  a  word  for  a  moment,  but 
drew  a  long  breath,  while  the  delicate  pink  in 
her  cheeks  deepened  and  her  eyes  lighted  up. 
Then  she  began  going  slowly  from  flower  to 
flower,  laying  her  face  against  the  cool,  velvety 
purple  of  the  pansies,  touching  the  roses  with 
her  lips,  and  tilting  the  white  lily-cups  to  look 
into  their  golden  depths. 

As  she  passed  from  one  to  another  as  lightly 
as  a  butterfly  might  have  done,  she  began 
chanting  in  a  happy  undertone. 

Ever  since  she  had  learned  to  talk  she  had 
a  quaint  little  way  of  singing  to  herself.  All 
the  names  that  pleased  her  fancy  she  strung 
together  in  a  crooning  melody  of  her  own. 

There  was  no  special  tune.  It  sounded 
happy,  although  nearly  always  in  a  minor  key. 

"  Oh,  the  jonquils  an'  the  lilies !  "  she  sang. 
"  All  white  an'  gold  an'  yellow.  Oh,  they're 
all  a-smilin'  at  me,  an'  a-sayin'  howdy! 
howdy !  " 


3O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

She  was  so  absorbed  in  her  intense  enjoy- 
ment that  she  forgot  all  about  the  old  Colonel. 
She  was  wholly  unconscious  that  he  was  watch- 
ing or  listening. 

"  She  really  does  love  them,"  he  thought, 
complacently.  "  To  see  her  face  one  would 
think  she  had  found  a  fortune." 

It  was  another  bond  between  them. 

After  awhile  he  took  a  small  basket  fronr 
the  wall,  and  began  to  fill  it  with  his  choicest 
blooms. 

"  You  shall  have  these  to  take  home,"  he 
said.  "  Now  come  into  the  house  and  get  your 
strawberries." 

She  followed  him  reluctantly,  turning  back 
several  times  for  one  more  long  sniff  of  the 
delicious  fragrance. 

She  was  not  at  all  like  the  Colonel's  ideal  of 
what  a  little  girl  should  be,  as  she  sat  in  one 
of  the  high,  stiff  chairs,  enjoying  her  straw- 
berries. Her  dusty  little  toes  wriggled  around 
in  the  curls  on  Fritz's  back,  as  she  used  him 
for  a  footstool.  Her  dress  was  draggled  and 
dirty,  and  she  kept  leaning  over  to  give  the 
dog  berries  and  cream  from  the  spoon  she  was 
eating  with  herself. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  3! 

He  forgot  all  this,  however,  when  she  began 
to  talk  to  him. 

"  My  great-aunt  Sally  Tylah  is  to  ou'  house 
this  mawnin',"  she  announced,  confidentially. 
"  That's  why  we  came  off.  Do  you  know  my 
Aunt  Sally  Tylah?" 

"Well,  slightly!"  chuckled  the  Colonel. 
"  She  was  my  wife's  half-sister.  So  you  don't 
like  her,  eh?  Well,  I  don't  like  her  either." 

He  threw  back  his  head  and  laughed  heart- 
ily. The  more  the  child  talked  the  more  enter- 
taining he  found  her.  He  did  not  remember 
when  he  had  ever  been  so  amused  before  as  he 
was  by  this  tiny  counterpart  of  himself. 

When  the  last  berry  had  vanished,  she 
slipped  down  from  the  tall  chair. 

"  Do  you  'pose  it's  very  late?  "  she  asked,  in 
an  anxious  voice.  "  Mom  Beck  will  be  comin' 
for  me  soon." 

'*  Yes,  it  is  nearly  noon,"  he  answered.  "  It 
didn't  do  much  good  to  run  away  from  your 
Aunt  Tyler;  she'll  see  you  after  all." 

"  Well,  she  can't  'queeze  me  an'  kiss  me, 
'cause  I've  been  naughty,  an'  I'll  be  put  to  bed 
like  I  was  the  othah  day,  just  as  soon  as  I  get 
home.  I  'most  wish  I  was  there  now,"  she 


32  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

sighed.  "  It's  so  fa'  an'  the  sun's  so  hot.  I 
lost  my  sunbonnet  when  I  was  comin'  heah, 
too." 

Something  in  the  tired,  dirty  face  prompted 
the  old  Colonel  to  say,  "  Well,  my  horse  hasn't 
been  put  away  yet.  I'll  take  you  home  on 
Maggie  Boy." 

The  next  moment  he  repented  making  such 
an  offer,  thinking  what  the  neighbours  might 
say  if  they  should  meet  him  on  the  road  with 
Elizabeth's  child  in  his  arm. 

But  it  was  too  late.  He  could  not  unclasp 
the  trusting  little  hand  that  was  slipped  in  his. 
He  could  not  cloud  the  happiness  of  the  eager 
little  face  by  retracting  his  promise. 

He  swung  himself  into  the  saddle,  with  her 
in  front. 

Then  he  put  his  one  arm  around  her  with 
a  firm  clasp,  as  he  reached  forward  to  take  the 
bridle. 

"  You  couldn't  take  Fritz  on  behin',  could 
you?"  she  asked,  anxiously.  "He's  mighty 
ti'ed  too." 

"  No,"  said  the  Colonel,  with  a  laugh. 
"  Maggie  Boy  might  object  and  throw  us  all 
off." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  33 

Hugging  her  basket  of  flowers  close  in  her 
arms,  she  leaned  her  head  against  him  con- 
tentedly as  they  cantered  down  the  avenue. 

"  Look !  "  whispered  all  the  locusts,  waving 
their  hands  to  each  other  excitedly.  "Look! 
The  master  has  his  own  again.  The  dear  old 
times  are  coming  back  to  us." 

"  How  the  trees  blow !  "  exclaimed  the  child, 
looking  up  at  the  green  arch  overhead.  "  See! 
They's  all  a-noddin'  to  each  othah." 

"  We'll  have  to  get  my  shoes  an'  'tockin's," 
she  said,  presently,  when  they  were  nearly 
home.  "  They're  in  that  fence  cawnah  behin' 
a  log." 

The  Colonel  obediently  got  down  and  handed 
them  to  her.  As  he  mounted  again  he  saw  a 
carriage  coming  toward  them.  He  recognized 
one  of  his  nearest  neighbours.  Striking  the 
astonished  Maggie  Boy  with  his  spur,  he 
turned  her  across  the  railroad  track,  down  the 
steep  embankment,  and  into  an  unfrequented 
lane. 

"  This  road  is  just  back  of  your  garden,"  he 
said.  "  Can  you  get  through  the  fence  if  I 
take  you  there?  " 

"  That's  the  way  we  came  out,""  was  the 


34  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

answer.  "  See  that  hole  where  the  palin's  are 
off?" 

Just  as  he  was  about  to  lift  her  down,  she 
put  one  arm  around  his  neck,  and  kissed  him 
softly  on  the  cheek. 

"  Good-bye,  gran'fatha',"  she  said,  in  her 
most  winning  way.  "  I've  had  a  mighty  nice 
time."  Then  she  added,  in  a  lower  tone,  "  Kuse 
me  fo'  throwin'  mud  on  yo'  coat." 

He  held  her  close  a  moment,  thinking  noth- 
ing had  ever  before  been  half  so  sweet  as  the 
way  she  called  him  grandfather. 

From  that  moment  his  heart  went  out  to  her 
as  it  had  to  little  Tom  arid  Elizabeth.  It  made 
no  difference  if  her  n?otlier  had  forfeited  his 
love.  It  made  no  difference  if  Jack  Sherman 
was  her  father,  and  that  the  two  men  heartily 
hated  each  other. 

It  was  his  own  little  grandchild  he  held  in 
his  arms. 

She  had  sealed  the  relationship  with  a  trust- 
ing kiss. 

"  Child,"  he  said,  huskily,  "  you  will  come 
and  see  me  again,  won't  you,  no  matter  if  they 
do  tell  you  not  to?  You  shall  have  all  the 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  35 

flowers  and  berries  you  want,  and  you  can  ride 
Maggie  Boy  as  often  as  you  please." 

She  looked  up  into  his  face.  It  was  very 
familiar  to  her.  She  had  looked  at  his  por- 
trait often,  unconsciously  recognizing  a  kindred 
spirit  that  she  longed  to  know. 

Her  ideas  of  grandfathers,  gained  from 
stories  and  observation,  led  her  to  class  them 
with  fairy  godmothers.  She  had  always 
wished  for  one. 

The  day  they  moved  to  Lloydsborough,  Lo- 
cust had  been  pointed  out  to  her  as  her  grand- 
father's home.  From  that  time  on  she  slipped 
away  with  Fritz  on  every  possible  occasion  to 
peer  through  the  gate,  hoping  for  a  glimpse  of 
him. 

"  Yes,  I'll  come  suah !  "  she  promised.  "  I 
likes  you  just  lots,  gran'fathah !  " 

He  watched  her  scramble  through  the  hole 
in  the  fence.  Then  he  turned  his  horse's  head 
slowly  homeward. 

A  scrap  of  white  lying  on  the  grass  attracted 
his  attention  as  he  neared  the  gate. 

"  It's  the  lost  sunbonnet,"  he  said,  with  a 
smile.  He  carried  it  into  the  house,  and  hung 
it  on  the  hat-rack  in  the  wide  frorjt  hall. 


36  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  O'le  marse  is  crosser'n  two  sticks,"  growled 
Walker  to  the  cook  at  dinner.  "  There  ain't  no 
livin'  with  him.  What  do  you  s'pose  is  the 
mattah?" 


CHAPTER    IV. 

MOM  BECK  was  busy  putting  lunch  on  the 
table  when  the  Little  Colonel  looked  in  at  the 
kitchen  door. 

So  she  did  not  see  a  little  tramp,  carrying 
her  shoes  in  one  hand,  and  a  basket  in  the  other, 
who  paused  there  a  moment.  But  when  she 
took  up  the  pan  of  beaten  biscuit  she  was  puz- 
zled to  find  that  several  were  missing. 

"  It  beats  my  time,"  she  said,  aloud.  "  The 
parrot  couldn't  have  reached  them,  an'  Lloyd 
an'  the  dog  have  been  in  the  pa'lah  all  mawnin'. 
Somethin'  has  jus'  natch'ly  done  sperrited  'em 
away." 

Fritz  was  gravely  licking  his  lips,  and  the 
Little  Colonel  had  her  mouth  full,  when  they 
suddenly  made  their  appearance  on  the  front 
porch. 

Aunt  Sally  Tyler  gave  a  little  shriek,  and 
stopped  rocking. 

37 


38  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  Why,  Lloyd  Sherman ! "  gasped  her 
mother,  in  dismay.  "  Where  have  you  been  ? 
I  thought  you  were  with  Becky  all  the  time. 
I  was  sure  I  heard  you  singing  out  there  a  little 
while  ago." 

"  I've  been  to  see  my  gran'fathah,"  said  the 
child,  speaking  very  fast.  "  I  made  mud  pies 
on  his  front  'teps,  an'  we  both  of  us  got  mad, 
an'  I  throwed  mud  on  him,  an'  he  gave  me 
some  'trawberries  an'  all  these  flowers,  an' 
brought  me  home  on  Maggie  Boy." 

She  stopped  out  of  breath. 

Mrs.  Tyler  and  her  niece  exchanged  as- 
tonished glances. 

"  But,  baby,  how  could  you  disgrace  mother 
so  by  going  up  there  looking  like  a  dirty  little 
beggar  ? " 

"  He  didn't  care,"  replied  Lloyd,  calmly. 
"  He  made  me  promise  to  come  again,  no 
mattah  if  you  all  did  tell  me  not  to." 

Just  then  Becky  announced  that  lunch  was 
ready,  and  carried  the  child  away  to  make  her 
presentable. 

To  Lloyd's  great  surprise  she  was  not  put 
to  bed,  but  was  allowed  to  go  to  the  table  as 
soon  as  she  was  dressed.  It  was  not  long  until 


THE   LITTLE    COLONE*-  39 

she  had  told  every  detail  of  the  morning's  ex- 
perience. 

While  she  was  taking  her  afternoon  nap,  the 
two  ladies  sat  out  on  the  porch,  gravely  dis- 
cussing all  she  had  told  them. 

"  It  doesn't  seem  right  for  me  to  allow  her 
to  go  there,"  said  Mrs.  Sherman,  "  after  the 
way  papa  has  treated  us.  I  can  never  forgive 
him  for  all  the  terrible  things  he  has  said  about 
Jack,  and  I  know  Jack  can  never  be  friends 
with  him  on  account  of  wrhat  he  has  said  about 
me.  He  has  been  so  harsh  and  unjust  that  I 
don't  want  my  little  Lloyd  to  have  anything  to 
do  with  him.  I  wouldn't  for  worlds  have  him 
think  that  I  encouraged  her  going  there." 

"  Well,  yes,  I  know,"  answered  her  aunt, 
slowly.  "  But  there  are  some  things  to  con- 
sider besides  your  pride,  Elizabeth.  There's 
the  child  herself,  you  know.  Now  that  Jack 
has  lost  so  much,  and  your  prospects  are  so 
uncertain,  you  ought  to  think  of  her  interests. 
It  would  be  a  pity  for  Locust  to  go  to  strangers 
when  it  has  been  in  your  family  for  so  many 
generations.  That's  what  it  certainly  will  do 
unless  something  turns  up  to  interfere.  Old 
Judge  Woodard  told  me  himself  that  your 


4O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

father  had  made  a  will,  leaving  everything  he 
owns  to  some  medical  institution.  Imagine 
Locust  being  turned  into  a  sanitarium  or  a 
training-school  for  nurses !  " 

"  Dear  old  place !  "  said  Mrs.  Sherman,  with 
tears  in  her  eyes.  "  No  one  ever  had  a  happier 
childhood  than  I  passed  under  these  old  locusts. 
Every  tree  seems  like  a  friend.  I  would  be 
glad  for  Lloyd  to  enjoy  the  place  as  I  did." 

"  I'd  let  her  go  as  much  as  she  pleases,  Eliza- 
beth. She's  so  much  like  -the  old  Colonel  that 
they  ought  to  understand  each  other,  and  get 
along  capitally.  Who  knows,  it  might  end  in 
you  all  making  up  some  day." 

Mrs.  Sherman  raised  her  head  haughtily. 
"  No,  indeed,  Aunt  Sally.  I  can  forgive  and 
forget  much,  but  you  are  greatly  mistaken  if 
you  think  I  can  go  to  such  lengths  as  that. 
He  closed  his  doors  against  me  with  a  curse, 
for  no  reason  on  earth  but  that  the  man  I 
loved  was  born  north  of  the  Mason  and  Dixon 
line.  There  never  was  a  nobler  man  living 
than  Jack,  and  papa  would  have  seen  it  if  he 
hadn't  deliberately  shut  his  eyes  and  refused  to 
look  at  him.  He  was  just  prejudiced  and  stub- 
born." 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  41 

Aunt  Sally  said  nothing,  but  her  thoughts 
took  the  shape  of  Mom  Beck's  declaration, 
"  The  Lloyds  is  all  stubbo'n." 

"  I  wouldn't  go  through  his  gate  now  if  he 
got  down  on  his  knees  and  begged  me,"  con- 
tinued Elizabeth,  hotly. 

"It's  too  bad,"  exclaimed  her  aunt;  "he 
was  always  so  perfectly  devoted  to  '  little 
daughter,'  as  he  used  to  call  you.  I  don't  like 
him  myself.  We  never  could  get  along  to- 
gether at  all,  because  he  is  so  high-strung  and 
overbearing.  But  I  know  it  would  have  made 
your  poor  mother  mighty  unhappy  if  she  could 
have  foreseen  all  this." 

Elizabeth  sat  with  the  tears  dropping  down 
on  her  little  white  hands,  as  her  aunt  proceeded 
to  work  on  her  sympathies  in  every  way  she 
could  think  of. 

Presently  Lloyd  came  out  all  fresh  and  rosy 
from  her  long  nap,  and  went  to  play  in  the 
shade  of  the  great  beech-trees  that  guarded 
the  cottage. 

"  I  never  saw  a  child  with  such  influence 
over  animals,"  said  her  mother,  as  Lloyd  came 
around  the  house  with  the  parrot  perched  on 
the  broom  she  was  carrying.  "  She'll  walk 


42  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

right  up  to  any  strange  dog  and  make  friends 
with  it,  no  matter  how  savage-looking  it  is. 
And  there's  Polly,  so  old  and  cross  that  she 
screams  and  scolds  dreadfully  if  any  of  us  go 
near  her.  But  Lloyd  dresses  her  up  in  doll's 
clothes,  puts  paper  bonnets  on  her,  and  makes 
her  just  as  uncomfortable  as  she 
pleases.  Look!  that  is  one  of 
her  favourite  amusements." 

The  Little  Colonel  squeezed 
the  parrot  into  a  tiny  doll  car- 
riage, and  began 
to      trundle      it 
back    and    forth 
as    fast   as   she 
could  run. 

"Ha!      ha!" 
screamed  the  bird.     "  Polly 
is    a    lady !      Oh,    Lordy ! 
I'm  so  happy !  " 

"  She  caught  that  from  the  washerwoman," 
laughed  Mrs.  Sherman.  "  I  should  think  the 
poor  thing  would  be  dizzy  from  whirling 
around  so  fast." 

"  Quit  that,  chillun ;  stop  yo'  fussin'," 
screamed  Polly,  as  Lloyd  grabbed  her  up  and 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  43 

began  to  pin  a  shawl  around  her  neck.  She 
clucked  angrily,  but  never  once  attempted  to 
snap  at  the  dimpled  fingers  that  squeezed  her 
tight.  Suddenly,  as  if  her  patience  was  com- 
pletely exhausted,  she  uttered  a  disdainful  "Oh, 
pshaw !  "  and  flew  up  into  an  old  cedar-tree. 

"  Mothah !  Polly  won't  play  with  me  any 
moah,"  shrieked  the  child,  flying  into  a  rage. 
She  stamped  and  scowled  and  grew  red  in  the 
face.  Then  she  began  beating  the  trunk  of  the 
tree  with  the  old  broom  she  had  been  carrying. 

"  Did  you  ever  see  anything  so  much  like  the 
old  Colonel  ?  "  said  Mrs.  Tyler,  in  astonish- 
ment. "  I  wonder  if  she  acted  that  way  this 
morning." 

"  I  don't  doubt  it  at  all,"  answered  Mrs. 
Sherman.  "  She'll  be  over  it  in  just  a  moment. 
These  little  spells  never  last  long." 

Mrs.  Sherman  was  right.  In  a  few  moments 
Lloyd  came  up  the  walk,  singing. 

"  I  wish  you'd  tell  me  a  pink  story,"  she  said, 
coaxingly,  as  she  leaned  against  her  mother's 
knee. 

"  Not  now,  clear ;  don't  you  see  that  I  am 
busy  talking  to  Aunt  Sally?  Run  and  ask 
Mom  Beck  for  one." 


44  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  What  on  earth  does  she  mean  by  a  pink 
story  ?  "  asked  Mrs.  Tyler. 

"  Oh,  she  is  so  fond  of  colours.  She  is  al- 
ways asking  for  a  pink  or  a  blue  or  a  white 
story.  She  wants  everything  in  the  story 
tinged  with  whatever  colour  she  chooses,  — 
dresses,  parasols,  flowers,  sky,  even  the  icing 
on  the  cakes  and  the  paper  on  the  walls." 

"  What  an  odd  little  thing  she  is !  "  ex- 
claimed Mrs.  Tyler.  "  Isn't  she  lots  of  com- 
pany for  you  ?  " 

She  need  not  have  asked  that  question  if  she 
could  have  seen  them  that  evening,  sitting  to- 
gether in  the  early  twilight. 

Lloyd  was  in  her  mother's  lap,  leaning  her 
head  against  her  shoulder  as  they  rocked  slowly 
back  and  forth  on  the  dark  porch. 

There  was  an  occasional  rattle  of  wheels 
along  the  road,  a  twitter  of  sleepy  birds,  a  dis- 
tant croaking  of  frogs. 

Mom  Beck's  voice  floated  in  from  the 
kitchen,  where  she  was  stepping  briskly  around. 

"  Oh,  the  clouds  hang  heavy,  an'  it's  gwine  to  rain. 
Fa'well,  my  dyin'  friends." 

she  sang. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  45 

Lloyd  put  her  arms  closer  around  her 
mother's  neck. 

"  Let's  talk  about  Papa  Jack,"  she  said. 
"  What  you  'pose  he's  doin'  now,  'way  out 
West." 

Elizabeth,  feeling  like  a  tired,  homesick  child 
herself,  held,  her  close,  and  was  comforted  as 
she  listened  to  the  sweet  little  voice  talking 
about  the  absent  father. 

The  moon  came  up  after  awhile,  and 
streamed  in  through  the  vines  of  the  porch. 
The  hazel  eyes  slowly  closed  as  Elizabeth  be- 
gan to  hum  an  old-time  negro  lullaby. 

"  Wondah  if  she'll  run  away  to-morrow," 
whispered  Mom  Beck,  as  she  came  out  to  carry 
her  in  the  house. 

"  Who'd  evah  think  now,  lookin'  at  her 
pretty,  innocent  face,  that  she  could  be  so 
naughty?  Bless  her  little  soul!  " 

The  kind  old  black  face  was  laid  lovingly  a 
moment  against  the  fair,  soft  cheek  of  the  Little 
Colonel.  Then  she  lifted  her  in  her  strong 
arms,  and  carried  her  gently  away  to  bed. 


CHAPTER   V. 

SUMMER  lingers  long  among  the  Kentucky 
hills.  Each  passing  day  seemed  fairer  than  the 
last  to  the  Little  Colonel,  who  had  never  before 
known  anything  of  country  life. 

Roses  climbed  up  and  almost  hid  the  small 
white  cottage.  Red  birds  sang  in  the  wood- 
bine. Squirrels  chattered  in  the  beeches.  She 
was  out-of-doors  all  day  long. 

Sometimes  she  spent  hours  watching  the  ants 
carry  away  the  sugar  she  sprinkled  for  them. 
Sometimes  she  caught  flies  for  an  old  spider 
that  had  his  den  under  the  porch  steps. 

"  He  is  an  ogah  "  (ogre),  she  explained  to 
Fritz.  "  He's  bewitched  me  so's  I  have  to  kill 
whole  families  of  flies  for  him  to  eat." 

She  was  always  busy  and  always  happy. 

Before  June  was  half  over  it  got  to  be  a 

common  occurrence  for  Walker  to  ride  up  to 

the  gate  on  the  Colonel's  horse.     The  excuse 

was  always  to  have  a  passing  word  with  Mom 

46 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  47 

Beck.  But  before  he  rode  away,  the  Little 
Colonel  was  generally  mounted  in  front  of  him. 
It  was  not  long  before  she  felt  almost  as  much 
at  home  at  Locust  as  she  did  at  the  cottage. 

The  neighbours  began  to  comment  on  it  after 
awhile.  "  He  will  surely  make  up  with  Eliza- 
beth at  this  rate,"  they  said.  But  at  the  end  of 
the  summer  the  father  and  daughter  had  not 
even  had  a  passing  glimpse  of  each  other. 

One  day,  late  in  September,  as  the  Little 
Colonel  clattered  up  and  down  the  hall  with 
her  grandfather's  spur  buckled  on  her  tiny  foot, 
she  called  back  over  her  shoulder :  "  Papa 
Jack's  comin'  home  to-morrow." 

The  Colonel  paid  no  attention. 

"  I  say,"  she  repeated,  "  Papa  Jack's  comin' 
hvine  to-morrow." 

"  Well,"  was  the  gruff  response.  "  Why 
couldn't  he  stay  where  he  was  ?  I  suppose  you 
won't  want  to  come  here  any  more  after  he  gets 
back." 

"  No,  I  'pose  not,"  she  answered,  so  care- 
lessly that  he  was  conscious  of  a  very  jealous 
feeling. 

"  Chilluns  always  like  to  stay  with  their 
fathahs  when  they's  nice  as  my  Papa  Jack  is." 


48 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


The  old  man  growled  something  behind  his 

newspaper 
'•:£  #  that    she 


not 


morning,   thoroughly 
preparation. 


did 

hear.     He 
have 

been  glad  to 
choke  this 
man  who  had 
come  between 
him  and  his 
only  child,  and 
he  hated  him 
worse  than 
ever  when  he 
realized  what 
a  large  place 
he  held  in 
Lloyd's  little 
heart. 

She  did  not  go  back 
to  Locust  the  next  day, 
nor  for  weeks  after  that. 
She  was  up  almost  as 
soon  as  Mom  Beck  next 
enjoying  the  bustle  of 


THE    LITTLE    cOLONEL  49 

She  had  a  finger  in  everything,  from  polish- 
ing the  silver  to  turning  the  ice-cream  freezer. 

Even  Fritz  was  scrubbed  till  he  came  out  of 
his  bath  with  his  curls  all  white  and  shining. 
He  was  proud  of  himself,  from  his  silky  bangs 
to  the  tip  of  his  tasselled  tail. 

Just  before  train-time,  the  Little  Colonel 
stuck  his  collar  full  of  late  pink  roses,  and  stood 
back  to  admire  the  effect.  Her  mother  came 
to  the  door,  dressed  for  the  evening.  She  wore 
an  airy-looking  dress  of  the  palest,  softest  blue. 
There  was  a  white  rosebud  caught  in  her  dark 
hair.  A  bright  colour,  as  fresh  as  Lloyd's  own, 
tinged  her  cheeks,  and  the  glad  light  in  her 
brown  eyes  made  them  unusually  brilliant. 

Lloyd  jumped  up  and  threw  her  arms  about 
her.  "  Oh,  mothah,"  she  cried,  "  you  an'  Fritz 
is  so  bu'ful !  " 

The  engine  whistled  up  the  road  at  the  cross- 
ing. "  Come,  we  have  just  time  to  get  to  the 
station,"  said  Mrs.  Sherman,  holding  out  her 
hand. 

They  went  through  the  gate,  down  the  nar- 
row path  that  ran  beside  the  dusty  road.  The 
train  had  just  stopped  in  front  of  the  little 
station  when  they  reached  it. 


5O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

A  number  of  gentlemen,  coming  out  from 
the  city  to  spend  Sunday  at  the  hotel,  came 
down  the  steps. 

They  glanced  admiringly  from  the  beautiful, 
girlish  face  of  the  mother  to  the  happy  child 
dancing  impatiently  up  and  down  at  her  side. 
They  could  not  help  smiling  at  Fritz  as  he 
frisked  about  in  his  imposing  rose-collar. 

"  Why,  where's  Papa  Jack  ?  "  asked  Lloyd, 
in  distress,  as  passenger  after  passenger  stepped 
down.  "  Isn't  he  goin'  to  come  ?  " 

The  tears  were  beginning  to  gather  in  her 
eyes,  when  she  saw  him  in  the  door  of  the  car ; 
not  hurrying  along  to  meet  them  as  he  always 
used  to  come,  so  full  of  life  and  vigour,  but 
leaning  heavily  on  the  porter's  shoulder,  look- 
ing very  pale  and  weak. 

Lloyd  looked  up  at  her  mother,  from  whose 
face  every  particle  of  colour  had  faded.  Mrs. 
Sherman  gave  a  low,  frightened  cry  as  she 
sprang  forward  to  meet  him. 

"  Oh,  Jack!  what  is  the  matter?  What  has 
happened  to  you?  "  she  exclaimed,  as  he  took 
her  in  his  arms.  The  train  had  gone  on,  and 
they  were  left  alone  on  the  platform. 

"  Just  a  little  sick  spell,"  he  answered,  with 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  $1 

a  smile.  "  We  had  a  fire  out  at  the  mines, 
and  I  overtaxed  myself  some.  I've  had  fever 
ever  since,  and  it  has  pulled  me  down  consider- 
ably." 

"  I  must  send  somebody  for  a  carriage,"  she 
said,  looking  around  anxiously. 

"  No,  indeed,"  he  protested.  "  It's  only  a 
few  steps ;  I  can  walk  it  as  well  as  not.  The 
sight  of  you  and  the  baby  has  made  me  stronger 
already." 

He  sent  a  coloured  boy  on  ahead  with  his 
valise,  and  they  walked  slowly  up  the  path, 
with  Fritz  running  wildly  around  them,  bark- 
ing a  glad  welcome. 

"  How  sweet  and  homelike  it  all  looks !  " 
he  said,  as  he  stepped  into  the  hall,  where  Mom 
Beck  was  just  lighting  the  lamps.  Then  he 
sank  down  on  the  couch,  completely  exhausted, 
and  wearily  closed  his  eyes. 

The  Little  Colonel  looked  at  his  white  face 
in  alarm.  All  the  gladness  seemed  to  have  been 
taken  out  of  the  home-coming. 

Her  mother  was  busy  trying  to  make  him 
comfortable,  and  paid  no  attention  to  the  dis- 
consolate little  figure  wandering  about  the 


52  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

house  alone.  Mom  Beck  had  gone  for  the 
doctor. 

The  supper  was  drying  up  in  the  warming- 
oven.  The  ice-cream  was  melting  in  the 
freezer.  Nobody  seemed  to  care.  There  was 
no  one  to  notice  the  pretty  table  with  its  array 
of  flowers  and  cut  glass  and  silver. 

When  Mom  Beck  came  back,  Lloyd  ate  all 
by  herself,  and  then  sat  out  on  the  kitchen  door- 
step while  the  doctor  made  his  visit. 

She  was  just  going  mournfully  off  to  bed 
with  an  aching  lump  in  her  throat,  when  her 
mother  opened  the  door. 

"  Come  tell  papa  good  night,"  she  said. 
''  He's  lots  better  now." 

She  climbed  up  on  the  bed  beside  him,  and 
buried  her  face  on  his  shoulder  to  hide  the  tears 
she  had  been  trying  to  keep  back  all  evening. 

"  How  the  child  has  grown !  "  he  exclaimed. 
"  Do  you  notice,  Beth,  how  much  plainer  she 
talks?  She  does  not  seem  at  all  like  the  baby 
I  left  last  spring.  Well,  she'll  soon  be  six  years 
old,  —  a  real  little  woman.  She'll  be  papa's 
little  comfort." 

The  ache  in  her  throat  was  all  gone  after 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  53 

that.  She  romped  with  Fritz  all  the  time  she 
was  undressing. 

Papa  Jack  was  worse  next  morning.  It  was 
hard  for  Lloyd  to  keep  quiet  when  the  late 
September  sunshine  was  so  gloriously  yellow 
and  the  whole  outdoors  seemed  so  wide  awake. 

She  tiptoed  out  of  the  darkened  room  where 
her  father  lay,  and  swung  on  the  front  gate  un- 
til she  saw  the  doctor  riding  up  on  his  bay 
horse.  It  seemed  to  her  that  the  day  never 
would  pass. 

Mom  Beck,  rustling  around  in  her  best  dress 
ready  for  church,  that  afternoon,  took  pity  on 
the  lonesome  child. 

"  Go  get  yo'  best  hat,  honey,"  she  said,  "  an* 
I'll  take  you  with  me." 

It  was  one  of  the  Little  Colonel's  greatest 
pleasures  to  be  allowed  to  go  to  the  coloured 
church. 

She  loved  to  listen  to  the  singing,  and  would 
sit  perfectly  motionless  while  the  sweet  voices 
blended  like  the  chords  of  some  mighty  organ 
as  they  sent  the  old  hymns  rolling  heavenward. 

Service  had  already  commenced  by  the  time 
they  took  their  seats.  Nearly  everybody  in  the 
congregation  was  swaying  back  and  forth  in 


54  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

time  to  the  mournful  melody  of  "  Sinnah, 
sinnah,  where's  you  boun'  ?  " 

One  old  woman  across  the  aisle  began  clap- 
ping her  hands  together,  and  repeated  in  a 
sing-song  tone,  "  Oh,  Lordy !  I'm  so  happy !  " 

"  Why,  that's  just  what  our  parrot  says," 
exclaimed  Lloyd,  so  much  surprised  that  she 
spoke  right  out  loud. 

Mom  Beck  put  her  handkerchief  over  her 
mouth,  and  a  general  smile  went  around. 

After  that  the  child  was  very  quiet  until  the 
time  came  to  take  the  collection.  She  always 
enjoyed  this  part  of  the  service  more  than  any- 
thing else.  Instead  of  passing  baskets  around, 
each  person  was  invited  to  come  forward  and 
lay  his  offering  on  the  table. 

Woolly  heads  wagged,  and  many  feet  kept 
time  to  the  tune : 

"  Oh  !  I'se  boun'  to  git  to  glory. 
Hallelujah  !     Le'  me  go ! " 

The  Little  Colonel  proudly  marched  up  with 
Mom  Beck's  contribution,  and  then  watched  the 
others  pass  down  the  aisle.  One  young  girl  in 
a  gorgeously  trimmed  dress  paraded  up  to  the 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  $5 

table  several  times,  singing  at  the  top  of  her 
voice. 

"  Look  at  that  good-fo'-nothin' 
Lize  Richa'ds,"  whispered  Mom 
Beck's  nearest  neighbour,  with  a 
sniff.  "  She  done  got  a  nickel 
changed  into  pennies  so  she  could 
ma'ch  up  an'  show  herself  five 
times." 

It  was  nearly  sundown 
when  they  started  home. 
A  tall  coloured  man, 
wearing  a  high  silk  hat 
and  carrying  a  gold- 
headed  cane,  joined  them 
on  the  way  out. 

"  Howdy,  S  i  s  t  a  h 
Po'tah,"  he  said,  gravely 
shaking  hands.  "  That 
was  a  fine  disco'se  we 
had  the  pleasuah  of 
listenin'  to  this  evenin'." 

"  'Deed  it  was,  Brothah  Fostah,"  she  an- 
swered.    "How's  all  up  yo'  way?" 

The    Little    Colonel,    running    on§  after    a 
couple  of  white  butterflies,  paid  no  attention 


56  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

to  the  conversation  until  she  heard  her  own 
name  mentioned. 

"  Mistah  Sherman  came  home  last  night,  I 
heah." 

"  Yes,  but  not  to  stay  long,  I'm  afraid.  He's 
a  mighty  sick  man,  if  I'm  any  judge.  He's 
down  with  fevah,  —  regulah  typhoid.  He 
doesn't  look  to  me  like  he's  long  for  this  world. 
What's  to  become  of  poah  Miss  'Lizabeth  if 
that's  the  case,  is  moah'n  /  know." 

"  We  mustn't  cross  the  bridge  till  we  come 
to  it,  Sistah  Po'tah,"  he  suggested. 

"  I  know  that ;  but  a  lookin'-glass  broke 
yeste'day  mawnin'  when  nobody  had  put  fingah 
on  it.  An'  his  picture  fell  down  off  the  wall 
while  I  was  sweepin'  the  pa'lah.  Pete  said  his 
dawg  done  howl  all  night  last  night,  an'  I've 
dremp  three  times  hand  runnin'  'bout  muddy 
watah." 

Mom  Beck  felt  a  little  hand  clutch  her  skirts, 
and  turned  to  see  a  frightened  little  face  looking 
anxiously  up  at  her. 

"  Now  what's  the  mattah  with  you,  honey?  " 
she  asked.  "  I'm  only  a-tellin'  Mistah  Fostah 
about  some  silly  old  signs  my  mammy  used  to 
believe  in.  But  they  don't  mean  nothin'  at  all." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  57 

Lloyd  couldn't  have  told  why  she  was  un- 
happy. She  had  not  understood  all  that  Mom 
Beck  had  said,  but  her  sensitive  little  mind  was 
shadowed  by  a  foreboding  of  trouble. 

The  shadow  deepened  as  the  days  passed. 
Papa  Jack  got  worse  instead  of  better.  There 
were  times  when  he  did  not  recognize  any  one, 
and  talked  wildly  of  things  that  had  happened 
out  at  the  mines. 

All  the  long,  beautiful  October  went  by,  and 
still  he  lay  in  the  darkened  room.  Lloyd  wan- 
dered listlessly  from  place  to  place,  trying  to 
keep  out  of  the  way,  and  to  make  as  little  trou- 
ble as  possible. 

"  I'm  a  real  little  woman  now,"  she  repeated, 
proudly,  whenever  she  was  allowed  to  pound 
ice  or  carry  fresh  water.  "  I'm  papa's  little 
comfort." 

One  cold,  frosty  evening  she  was  standing  in 
the  hall,  when  the  doctor  came  out  of  the  room 
and  began  to  put  on  his  overcoat. 

Her  mother  followed  him  to  take  his  direc- 
tions for  the  night. 

He  was  an  old  friend  of  the  family's.  Eliza- 
beth had  climbed  on  his  knees  many  a  time 
when  she  was  a  child.  She  loved  this  faithful, 


58  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

white-haired  old  doctor  almost  as  dearly  as 
she  had  her  father. 

"  My  daughter,"  he  said,  kindly,  laying  his 
hand  on  her  shoulder,  "  you  are  wearing  your- 
self out,  and  will  be  down  yourself  if  you  are 
not  careful.  You  must  have  a  professional 
nurse.  No  telling  how  long  this  is  going  to 
last.  As  soon  as  Jack  is  able  to  travel  you  must 
have  a  change  of  climate." 

Her  lips  trembled.  "  We  can't  afford  it,  doc- 
tor," she  said.  "  Jack  has  been  too  sick  from 
the  very  first  to  talk  about  business.  He  always 
said  a  woman  should  not  be  worried  with  such 
matters,  anyway.  I  don't  know  what  arrange- 
ments he  has  made  out  West.  For  all  I  know, 
the  little  I  have  in  my  purse  now  may  be  all  that 
stands  between  us  and  the  poorhouse." 

The  doctor  drew  on  his  gloves. 

"  Why  don't  you  tell  your  father  how  mat- 
ters are?  "  he  asked. 

Then  he  saw  he  had  ventured  a  step  too  far. 

"  I  believe  Jack  would  rather  die  than  take 
help  from  his  hands,"  she  answered,  drawing 
herself  up  proudly.  Her  eyes  flashed.  "  I 
would,  too,  as  far  as  I  am  concerned  myself." 

Then  a  tender  look  came  over  her  pale,  tired 


THE   LITTLE   COLONEL  59 

face,  as  she  added,  gently,  "  But  I'd  do  any- 
thing on  earth  to  help  Jack  get  well." 

The  doctor  cleared  his  throat  vigorously, 
and  bolted  out  with  a  gruff  good  night.  As 
he  rode  past  Locust,  he  took  solid  satisfaction 
in  shaking  his  fist  at  the  light  in  an  upper 
window. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE  Little  Colonel  followed  her  mother  to 
the  dining-room,  but  paused  on  the  threshold 
as  she  saw  her  throw  herself  into  Mom  Beck's 
arms  and  burst  out  crying. 

"  Oh,  Becky !  "  she  sobbed,  "  what  is  going 
to  become  of  us?  The  doctor  says  we  must 
have  a  professional  nurse,  and  we  must  go 
away  from:  here  soon.  There  are  only  a  few 
dollars  left  in  my  purse,  and  I  don't  know  what 
we'll  do  when  they  are  gone.  I  just  knoiv 
Jack  is  going  to  die,  and  then  I'll  die,  too,  and 
then  what  will  become  of  the  baby?  " 

Mom  Beck  sat  down,  and  took  the  trembling 
form  in  her  arms. 

"  There,  there !  "  she  said,  soothingly,  "  have 
yo'  cry  out.  It  will  do  you  good.  Poah  chile ! 
all  wo'n  out  with  watchin'  an'  worry.  Ne'm 
min',  ole  Becky  is  as  good  as  a  dozen  nuhses 
yet.  I'll  get  Judy  to  come  up  an'  look  aftah 
60 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  6 1 

the  kitchen.  An'  nobody  ain'  gwine  to  die, 
honey.  Don't  you  go  to  slayin'  all  you's  got 
befo'  you's  called  on  to  do  it.  The  good  Lawd 
is  goin'  to  pahvide  fo'  us  same  as  Abraham." 

The  last  Sabbath's  sermon  was  still  fresh  in 
her  mind. 

"  If  we  only  hold  out  faithful,  there's  boun' 
to  be  a  ram  caught  by  the  ha\vr,s  some  place, 
even  if  we  haven't  got  eyes  to  cee  through  the 
thickets.  The  Lawd  will  pahvide  whethah  it's 
a  burnt  offerin'  or  a  meal's  vittles.  He  sho'ly 
will." 

Lloyd  crept  away  frightened.  It  seemed 
suck  an  awful  thing  to  her  to  see  her  mother 
cry. 

All  at  once  her  bright,  happy  world  had 
changed  to  such  a  strange,  uncertain  place. 
She  felt  as  if  all  sorts  of  terrible  things  were 
about  to  happen. 

She  went  into  the  parlour,  and  crawled  into 
a  dark  corner  under  the  piano,  feeling  that 
there  was  no  place  to  go  for  comfort,  since  the 
one  who  had  always  kissed  away  her  little 
troubles  was  so  heart-broken  herself. 

There  was  a  patter  of  soft  feet  across  the 
carpet,  and  Fritz  poked  his  sympathetic  nose 


62  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

into  her  face.  She  put  her  arms  around  him, 
and  laid  her  head  against  his  curly  back  with 
a  desolate  sob. 

It  is  pitiful  to  think  how  much  imaginative 
children  suffer  through  their  wrong  conception 
of  things. 

She  had  seen  the  little  roll  of  bills  in  her 
mother's  pocketbook.  She  had  seen  how  much 
smaller  it  grew  every  time  it  was  taken  out  to 
pay  for  the  expensive  wines  and  medicines  that 
had  to  be  bought  so  often.  She  had  heard  her 
mother  tell  the  doctor  that  was  all  that  stood 
between  them  and  the  poorhouse. 

There  was  no  word  known  to  the  Little  Colo- 
nel that  brought  such  thoughts  of  horror  as 
the  word  poorhouse. 

Her  most  vivid  recollection  of  her  life  in 
New  York  was  something  that  happened  a  few 
weeks  before  they  left  there.  One  day  in  the 
park  she  ran  away  from  the  maid,  who,  in- 
stead of  Mom  Beck,  had  taken  charge  of  her 
that  afternoon. 

When  the  angry  woman  found  her,  she 
frightened  her  almost  into  a  spasm  by  telling 
her  what  always  happened  to  naughty  children 
who  ran  away. 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL  63 

"  They  take  all  their  pretty  clothes  off,"  she 
said,  "  and  dress  them  up  in  old  things  made 
of  bed-ticking.  Then  they  take'm  to  the  poor- 
house,  where  nobody  but  beggars  live.  They 
don't  have  anything  to  eat  but  cabbage  and 
corn-dodger,  and  they  have  to  eat  that  out  of 
tin  pans.  And  they  just  have  a  pile  of  straw 
to  sleep  in." 

On  their  way  home  she  had  pointed  out  to 
the  frightened  child  a  poor  woman  who  was 
grubbing  in  an  ash-barrel. 

"  That's  the  way  people  get  to  look  who  live 
in  poorhouses,"  she  said. 

It  was  this  memory  that  was  troubling  the 
Little  Colonel  now. 

"  Oh,  Fritz !  "  she  whispered,  with  the  tears 
running  down  her  cheeks,  "  I  can't  beah  to 
think  of  my  pretty  mothah  goin'  there.  That 
woman's  eyes  were  all  red,  an'  her  hair  was  jus' 
awful.  She  was  so  bony  an'  stahved-lookin'. 
It  would  jus'  kill  poah  Papa  Jack  to  lie  on 
straw  an'  eat  out  of  a  tin  pan.  I  know  it 
would !  " 

When  Mom  Beck  opened  the  door,  hunting 
her,  the  room  was  so  dark  that  she  would  have 


64  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

gone  away  if  the  dog  had  not  come  running 
out  from  under  the  piano. 

"  You  heah,  too,  chile  ?  "  she  asked,  in  sur- 
prise. "  I  have  to  go  down  now  an'  see  if  I 
can  get  Judy  to  come  help  to-morrow.  Do  you 
think  you  can  undress  yo'self  to-night?" 

"  Of  co'se,"  answered  the  Little  Colonel. 
Mom  Beck  was  in  such  a  hurry  to  be  off  that 
she  did  not  notice  the  tremble  in  the  voice  that 
answered  her. 

"  Well,  the  can'le  is  lit  in  yo'  room.  So  run 
along  now  like  a  nice  little  lady,  an'  don't 
bothah  yo'  mamma.  She  got  her  hands  full 
already." 

"  All  right,"  answered  the  child. 

A  quarter  of  an  hour  later  she  stood  in  her 
little  white  nightgown  with  her  hand  on  the 
door-knob. 

She  opened  the  door  just  a  crack  and  peeped 
in.  Her  mother  laid  her  finger  on  her  lips,  and 
beckoned  silently.  In  another  instant  Lloyd 
was  in  her  lap.  She  had  cried  herself  quiet  in 
the  dark  corner  under  the  piano;  but  there 
was  something  more  pathetic  in  her  eyes  than 
tears.  It  was  the  expression  of  one  who  under- 
stood and  sympathized. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  65 

"  Oh,  mothah,"  she  whispered,  "  we  does 
have  such  lots  of  troubles." 

"  Yes,  chickabiddy,  but  I  hope  they  will  soon 
be  over  now,"  was  the  answer,  as  the  anxious 
face  tried  to  smile  bravely  for  the  child's  sake. 
"  Papa  is  sleeping  so  nicely  now  he  is  sure  to 
be  better  in  the  morning." 

That  comforted  the  Little  Colonel  some,  but 
for  days  she  was  haunted  by  the  fear  of  the 
poorhouse. 

Every  time  her  mother  paid  out  any  money 
she  looked  anxiously  to  see  how  much  was  still 
left.  She  wandered  about  the  place,  touching 
the  trees  and  vines  with  caressing  hands,  feel- 
ing that  she  might  soon  have  to  leave  them. 

She  loved  them  all  so  dearly,  —  every  stick 
and  stone,  and  even  the  stubby  old  snowball 
bushes  that  never  bloomed. 

Her  dresses  were  outgrown  and  faded  but 
no  one  had  any  time  or  thought  to  spend  on 
getting  her  new  ones.  A  little  hole  began  to 
come  in  the  toe  of  each  shoe. 

She  was  still  wearing  her  summer  simbonnet, 
although  the  days  were  getting  frosty. 

She  was  a  proud  little  thing.  It  mortified 
her  for  any  one  to  see  her  looking  so  shabby. 


66  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

Still  she  uttered  no  word  of  complaint,  for  fear 
of  lessening  the  little  amount  in  the  pocketbook 
that  her  mother  had  said  stood  between  them 
and  the  poorhouse. 

She  sat  with  her  feet  tucked  under  her  when 
any  one  called. 

"  I  wouldn't  mind  bein'  a  little  beggah  so 
much  myself,"  she  thought,  "  but  I  jus'  can't 
have  my  bu'ful  sweet  mothah  lookin'  like  that 
awful  red-eyed  woman." 

One  day  the  doctor  called  Mrs.  Sherman  out 
into  the  hall.  "  I  have  just  come  from  your 
father's,"  he  said.  "  He  is  suffering  from  a 
severe  attack  of  rheumatism.  He  is  confined 
to  his  room,  and  is  positively  starving  for  com- 
pany. He  told  me  he  would  give  anything  in 
the  world  to  have  his  little  grandchild  with 
him.  There  were  tears  in  his  eyes  when  he 
said  it,  and  that  means  a  good  deal  from  him. 
He  fairly  idolizes  her.  The  servants  have  told 
him  she  mopes  around  and  is  getting  thin  and 
pale.  He  is  afraid  she  will  come  down  with  the 
fever,  too.  He  told  me  to  use  any  stratagem  I 
liked  to  get  her  there.  But  I  think  it's  better 
to  tell  you  frankly  how  matters  stand.  It  will 
do  the  child  good  to  have  a  change,  Elizabeth, 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  6/ 

and  I  solemnly  think  you  ought  to  let  her  go, 
for  a  week  at  least." 

"  But,  doctor,  she  has  never  been  away  from 
me  a  single  night  in  her  life.  She'd  die  of 
homesickness,  and  I  know  she'll  never  consent 
to  leave  me.  Then  suppose  Jack  should  get 
worse  —  " 

"  We'll  suppose  nothing  of  the  kind,"  he  in- 
terrupted, brusquely.  "  Tell  Becky  to  pack  up 
her  things.  Leave  Lloyd  to  me.  I'll  get  her 
consent  without  any  trouble." 

"  Come,  Colonel,"  he  called,  as  he  left  the 
house.  "  I'm  going  to  take  you  a  little  ride." 

No  one  ever  knew  what  the  kind  old  fellow 
said  to  her  to  induce  her  to  go  to  her  grand- 
father's. 

She  came  back  from  her  ride  looking 
brighter  than  she  had  in  a  long  time.  She 
felt  that  in  some  way,  although  in  what  way 
she  could  not  understand,  her  going  would 
help  them  to  escape  the  dreaded  poorhouse. 

"Don't  send  Mom  Beck  wjth  me,"  she 
pleaded,  when  the  time  came  to  start.  "  You 
come  with  me,  mothah." 

Mrs.  Sherman  had  not  been  past  the  gate  for 


68  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

weeks,  but  she  could  not  refuse  the  coaxing 
hands  that  clung  to  hers. 

It  was  a  dull,  dreary  day.  There  was  a  chill- 
ing hint  of  snow  in  the  damp  air.  The  leaves 
whirled  past  them  with  a  mournful  rustling. 

Mrs.  Sherman  turned  up  the  collar  of 
Lloyd's  cloak. 

"  You  must  have  a  new  one  soon,"  she  said, 
with  a  sigh.  "  Maybe  one  of  mine  could  .be 
made  over  for  you.  And  those  poor  little 
shoes !  I  must  think  to  send  to  town  for  a  new 
pair." 

The  walk  was  over  so  soon.  The  Little 
Colonel's  heart  beat  fast  as  they  came  in  sight 
of  the  gate.  She  winked  bravely  to  keep  back 
the  tears ;  for  she  had  promised  the  doctor  not 
to  let  her  mother  see  her  cry. 

A  week  seemed  such  a  long  time  to  look 
forward  to. 

She  clung  to  her  mother's  neck,  feeling  that 
she  could  never  give  her  up  so  long. 

"  Tell  me  good-bye,  baby  dear,"  said  Mrs. 
Sherman,  feeling  that  she  could  not  trust  her- 
self to  stay  much  longer.  "  It  is  too  cold  for 
you  to  stand  here.  Run  on,  and  I'll  watch  you 
till  you  get  inside  the  door." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


69 


The  Little  Colonel  started  bravely  down  the 
avenue,  with  Fritz  at  her  heels.     Every  few 


steps  she  turned  to  look  back  and  kiss  her 
hand. 

Mrs.  Sherman  watched  her  through  a  blur  of 
tears.    It  had  been  nearly  seven  years  since  she 


/O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

had  last  stood  at  that  old  gate.     Such  a  crowd 
of  memories  came  rushing  up! 

She  looked  again.  There  was  a  flutter  of  a 
white  handkerchief  as  the  Little  Colonel  and 
Fritz  went  up  the  steps.  Then  the  great  front 
door  closed  behind  them. 


CHAPTER    VII. 

THAT  early  twilight  hour  just  before  the 
lamps  were  lit  was  the  lonesomest  one  the 
Little  Colonel  had  ever  spent. 

Her  grandfather  was  asleep  up-stairs.  There 
was  a  cheery  wood  fire  crackling  on  the  hearth 
of  the  big  fireplace  in  the  hall,  but  the  great 
house  was  so  still.  The  corners  were  full  of 
shadows. 

She  opened  the  front  door  with  a  wild  long- 
ing to  run  away. 

"  Come,  Fritz,"  she  said,  closing  the  door 
softly  behind  her,  "  let's  go  down  to  the  gate." 

The  air  was  cold.  She  shivered  as  they 
raced  along  under  the  bare  branches  of  the 
locusts.  She  leaned  against  the  gate,  peering 
out  through  the  bars.  The  road  stretched 
white  through  the  gathering  darkness  in  the 
direction  of  the  little  cottage. 
71 


72  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  Oh,  I  want  to  go  home  so  bad !  "  she 
sobbed.  "  I  want  to  see  my  motfaah." 

She  laid  her  hand  irresolutely  on  the  latch, 
pushed  the  gate  ajar,  and  then  hesitated. 

"  No,  I  promised  the  doctah  I'd  stay,"  she 
thought.  "  He  said  I  could  help  mothah  and 
Papa  Jack,  both  of  'em,  by  stayin'  heah,  an' 
I'll  do  it." 

Fritz,  who  had  pushed  himself  through  the 
partly  opened  gate  to  rustle  around  among  the 
dead  leaves  outside,  came  bounding  back  with 
something  in  his  mouth. 

"  Heah,  suh !  "  she  called.  "  Give  it  to 
me !  "  He  dropped  a  small  gray  kid  glove  in 
her  outstretched  hand.  "  Oh,  it's  mothah's !  " 
she  cried.  "  I  reckon  she  dropped  it  when  she 
was  tellin'  me  good-bye.  Oh,  you  deah  old 
dog  fo'  findin'  it." 

She  laid  the  glove  against  her  cheek  as 
fondly  as  if  it  had  been  her  mother's  soft  hand. 
There  was  something  wonderfully  comforting 
in  the  touch. 

As  they  walked  slowly  back  toward  the 
house  she  rolled  it  up  and  put  it  lovingly  away 
in  her  tiny  apron  pocket. 

All  that  week  it  was  a  talisman  whose  touch 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  73 

helped  the  homesick  little  soul  to  be  brave  and 
womanly. 

When  Maria,  the  coloured  housekeeper,  went 
into  the  hall  to  light  the  lamps,  the  Little 
Colonel  was  sitting  on  the  big  fur  rug  in  front 
of  the  fire,  talking  contentedly  to  Fritz,  who 
lay  with  his  curly  head  in  her  lap. 

"  You  all's  goin'  to  have  tea  in  the  Cun'l's 
room  to-night,"  said  Maria.  "  He  tole  me  to 
tote  it  up  soon  as  he  rung  the  bell." 

"  There  it  goes  now,"  cried  the  child,  jump- 
ing up  from  the  rug. 

She  followed  Maria  up  the  wide  stairs.  The 
Colonel  was  sitting  in  a  large  easy  chair, 
wrapped  in  a  gaily  flowered  dressing-gown, 
that  made  his  hair  look  unusually  white  by 
contrast. 

His  dark  eyes  were  intently  watching  the 
door.  As  it  opened  to  let  the  Little  Colonel 
pass  through,  a  very  tender  smile  lighted  up 
his  stern  face. 

"  So  you  did  come  to  see  grandpa  after  all," 
he  cried,  triumphantly.  "  Come  here  and  give 
me  a  kiss.  Seems  to  me  you've  been  staying 
away  a  mighty  long  time." 

As  she  stood  beside  him  with  his  arm  around 


74  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

her,  Walker  came  in  with  a  tray  full  of 
dishes. 

"  We're  going  to  have  a  regular  little  tea- 
party,"  said  the  Colonel. 

Lloyd  watched  with  sparkling  eyes  as 
Walker  set  out  the  rare  old-fashioned  dishes. 
There  was  a  fat  little  silver  sugar-bowl  with  a 
butterfly  perched  on  each  side  to  form  the 
handles,  and  there  was  a  slim,  graceful  cream- 
pitcher  shaped  like  a  lily. 

"  They  belonged  to  your  great-great-grand- 
mother," said  the  Colonel,  "  and  they're  going 
to  be  yours  some  day  if  you  grow  up  and  have 
a  house  of  your  own." 

The  expression  on  her  beaming  face  was 
worth  a  fortune  to  the  Colonel. 

When  Walker  pushed  her  chair  up  to  the 
table,  she  turned  to  her  grandfather  with  shin- 
ing eyes. 

"  Oh,  it's  just  like  a  pink  story,"  she  cried, 
clapping  her  hands.  "  The  shades  on  the 
can'les,  the  icin'  on  the  cake,  an'  the  posies  in 
the  bowl,  —  why,  even  the  jelly  is  that  colah, 
too.  Oh,  my  darlin'  little  teacup!  It's  jus' 
like  a  pink  rosebud !  I'm  so  glad  I  came !  " 

The  Colonel  smiled  at  the  success  of  his  plan. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  75 

In  the  depths  of  his  satisfaction  he  even  had  a 
plate  of  quail  and  toast  set  down  on  the  hearth 
for  Fritz. 

"  This  is  the  nicest  pahty  I  evah  was  at," 
remarked  the  Little  Colonel,  as  Walker  helped 
her  to  jam  the  third  time. 

Her  grandfather  chuckled. 

"  Blackberry  jam  always  makes  me  think  of 
Tom,"  he  said.  "  Did  you  ever  hear  what  your 
Uncle  Tom  did  when  he  was  a  little  fellow  in 
dresses  ?  " 

She  shook  her  head  gravely. 

"  Well,  the  children  were  all  playing  hide- 
and-seek  one  day.  They  hunted  high  and  they 
hunted  low  after  everybody  else  had  been 
caught,  but  they  couldn't  find  Tom.  At  last 
they  began  to  call, '  Home  free !  You  can  come 
home  free !  '  but  he  did  not  come.  When  he 
had  been  hidden  so  long  they  were  frightened 
about  him,  they  went  to  their  mother  and  told 
her  he  wasn't  to  be  found  anywhere.  She 
looked  down  the  well  and  behind  the  fire-boards 
in  the  fireplaces.  They  called  and  called  till 
they  were  out  of  breath.  Finally  she  thought 
of  looking  in  the  big  dark  pantry  where  she 
kept  her  fruit.  There  stood  Mister  Tom.  He 


76  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

had  opened  a  jar  of  blackberry  jam,  and  was 
just  going  for  it  with  both  hands.  The  jam 
was  all  over  his  face  and  hair  and  little  ging- 
ham apron,  and  even  up  his  wrists.  He  was 
the  funniest  sight  I  ever  saw." 

The  Little  Colonel  laughed  heartily  at  his 
description,  and  begged  for  more  stories.  Be- 
fore he  knew  it  he  was  back  in  the  past  with 
his  little  Tom  and  Elizabeth. 

Nothing  could  have  entertained  the  child 
more  than  these  scenes  he  recalled  of  her 
mother's  childhood. 

"  All  her  old  playthings  are  up  in  the  garret," 
he  said,  as  they  rose  from  the  table.  "  I'll  have 
them  brought  down  to-morrow.  There's  a  doll 
I  brought  her  from  New  Orleans  once  when 
she  was  about  your  size.  No  telling  what  it 
looks  like  now,  but  it  was  a  beauty  when  it  was 
new." 

Lloyd  clapped  her  hands  and  spun  around 
the  room  like  a  top. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  I  came !  "  she  exclaimed 
for  the  third  time.  "  What  did  she  call  the 
doll,  gran'fathah,  do  you  rernembah?  " 

"  I  never  paid  much  attention  to  such 
things,"  he  answered,  "  but  I  do  remember  the 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


77 


name  of  this  one,  because  she  named  it  for  her 
mother,  - —  Amanthis." 

"  Amanthis,"  repeated  the  child,  dreamily,  as 
she  leaned  against  his  knee.  "  I  think  that 
is  a  lovely  name,  gran'fathah.  I  wish  they 
had  called  me  that."  She  repeated  it  softly 


several    times.      "  It    sounds    like    the    wind 
a-blowin'  through  white  clovah,  doesn't  it?  " 

"  It  is  a  beautiful  name  to  me,  my  child," 
answered  the  old  man,  laying  his  hand  tenderly 
on  her  soft  hair,  "  but  not  so  beautiful ''as  the 
woman  who  bore  it.  She  was  the  fairest  flower 
of  all  Kentucky.  There  never  was  another 


78  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

lived  as  sweet  and  gentle  as  your  Grandmother 
Amanthis." 

He  stroked  her  hair  absently,  and  gazed  into 
the  fire.  He  scarcely  noticed  when  she  slipped 
away  from  him. 

She  buried  her  face  a  moment  in  the  bowl 
of  pink  roses.  Then  she  went  to  the  window 
and  drew  back  the  curtain.  Leaning  her  head 
against  the  window-sill,  she  began  stringing 
on  the  thread  of  a  tune  the  things  that  just  then 
thrilled  her  with  a  sense  of  their  beauty. 

"Oh,  the  locus'-trees  a-blowin',"  she  sang, 
softly.  "  An'  the  moon  a-shinin'  through  them. 
An'  the  starlight  an'  pink  roses;  an'  Aman- 
this —  an'  Amanthis !  " 

She  hummed  it  over  and  over  until  Walker 
had  finished  carrying  the  dishes  away. 

It  was  a  strange  thing  that  the  Colonel's 
unfrequent  moods  of  tenderness  were  like  those 
warm  days  that  they  call  weather  breeders. 

They  were  sure  to  be  followed  by  a  change 
of  atmosphere.  This  time  as  the  fierce  rheu- 
matic pain  came  back  he  stormed  at  Walker, 
and  scolded  him  for  everything  he  did  and 
everything  he  left  undone. 

When  Maria  came  up  to  put  Lloyd  to  bed, 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL  79 

Fritz  was  tearing  around  the  room  barking  at 
his  shadow. 

"Put  that  dog  out,  M'ria!"  roared  the 
Colonel,  almost  crazy  with  its  antics.  "  Take 
it  down-stairs,  and  put  it  out  of  the  house,  I 
say!  Nobody  but  a  heathen  would  let  a  dog 
sleep  in  the  house,  anyway." 

The  homesick  feeling  began  to  creep  over 
Lloyd  again.  She  had  expected  to  keep  Fritz 
in  her  room  at  night  for  company.  But  for 
the  touch  of  the  little  glove  in  her  pocket,  she 
would  have  said  something  ugly  to  her  grand- 
father when  he  spoke  so  harshly. 

His  own  ill  humour  was  reflected  in  her 
scowl  as  she  followed  Maria  down  the  stairs 
to  drive  Fritz  out  into  the  dark. 

They  stood  a  moment  in  the  open  door,  after 
Maria  had  slapped  him  with  her  apron  to  make 
him  go  off  the  porch. 

"  Oh,  look  at  the  new  moon !  "  cried  Lloyd, 
pointing  to  the  slender  crescent  in  the  autumn 
sky. 

"  I'se  feared  to,  honey,"  answered  Maria, 
"  less  I  should  see  it  through  the  trees.  'That 
'ud  bring  me  bad  luck  for  a  month,  suah.  I'll 


8O  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

go  out  on  the  lawn  where  it's  open,  an'  look  at 
it  ovah  my  right  shouldah." 

While  they  were  walking  backward  down  the 
path,  intent  on  reaching  a  place  where  they 
could  have  an  uninterrupted  view  of  the  moon, 
Fritz  sneaked  around  to  the  other  end  of  the 
porch. 

No  one  was  watching.  He  slipped  into  the 
house  as  noiselessly  as  his  four  soft  feet  could 
carry  him. 

Maria,  going  through  the  dark  upper  hall, 
with  a  candle  held  high  above  her  head  and 
Lloyd  clinging  to  her  skirts,  did  not  see  a  tas- 
selled  tail  swinging  along  in  front  of  her.  It 
disappeared  under  the  big  bed  when  she  led 
Lloyd  into  the  room  next  the  old  Colonel's. 

The  child  felt  very  sober  while  she  was  being 
put  to  bed. 

The  furniture  was  heavy  and  dark.  An  ugly 
portrait  of  a  cross  old  man  in  a  wig  frowned  at 
her  from  over  the  mantel.  The  dancing  fire- 
light made  his  eyes  frightfully  lifelike. 

The  bed  was  so  high  she  had  to  climb  on  a 
chair  to  get  in.  She  heard  Maria's  heavy  feet 
go  shuffling  down  the  stairs.  A  door  banged. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  8 1 

Then  it  was  so  still  she  could  hear  the  clock 
tick  in  the  next  room. 

It  was  the  first  time  in  all  her  life  that  her 
mother  had  not  come  to  kiss  her  good  night. 

Her  lips  quivered,  and  a  big  tear  rolled  down 
on  the  pillow. 

She  reached  out  to  the  chair  beside  her  bed, 
where  her  clothes  were  hanging,  and  felt  in  her 
apron  pocket  -for  the  little  glove.  She  sat  up 
in  bed,  and  looked  at  it  in  the  dim  firelight. 
Then  she  held  it  against  her  face.  "  Oh,  I 
want  my  mothah !  I  want  my  mothah !  "  she 
sobbed,  in  a  heartbroken  whisper. 

Laying  her  head  on  her  knees,  she  began  to 
cry  quietly,  but  with  great  sobs  that  nearly 
choked  her. 

There  was  a  rustling  under  the  bed.  She 
lifted  her  wet  face  in  alarm.  Then  she  smiled 
through  her  tears,  for  there  was  Fritz,  her  own 
dear  dog,  and  not  an  unknown  horror  waiting 
to  grab  her. 

He  stood  on  his  hind  legs,  eagerly  trying  to 
lap  away  her  tears  with  his  friendly  red  tongue. 

She  clasped  him  in  her  arms  with  an  ecstatic 
hug.  "  Oh,  you're  such  a  comfort !  "  she  whis- 
pered. "  I  can  go  to  sleep  now." 


82  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

She  spread  her  apron  on  the  bed,  and  mo- 
tioned him  to  jump.  With  one  spring  he  was 
beside  her. 

It  was  nearly  midnight  when  the  door  from 
the  Colonel's  room  was  noiselessly  opened. 

The  old  man  stirred  the  fire  gently  until  it 
burst  into  a  bright  flame.  Then  he  turned  to 
the  bed.  "  You  rascal !  "  he  whispered,  look- 
ing at  Fritz,  who  raised  his  head  quickly  with 
a  threatening  look  in  his  wicked  eyes. 

Lloyd  lay  with  one  hand  stretched  out,  hold- 
ing the  dog's  protecting  paw.  The  other  held 
something  against  her  tear-stained  cheek. 

"  What  under  the  sun !  "  he  thought,  as  he 
drew  it  gently  from  her  fingers.  The  little 
glove  lay  across  his  hand,  slim  and  aristocratic- 
looking.  He  knew  instinctively  whose  it  was. 
"  Poor  little  thing's  been  crying,"  he  thought. 
"  She  wants  Elizabeth.  And  so  do  I !  And  so 
do  I !  "  his  heart  cried  out  with  bitter  longing. 
"  It's  never  been  like  home  since  she  left." 

He  laid  the  glove  back  on  her  pillow,  and 
went  to  his  room. 

"  If  Jack  Sherman  should  die,"  he  said  to 
himself  many  times  that  night,  "  then  she 
would  come  home  again.  Oh,  little  daughter, 
little  daughter !  why  did  you  ever  leave  me  ?  " 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

THE  first  thing  that  greeted  the  Little  Colo- 
nel's eyes  when  she  opened  them  next  morning 
was  her  mother's  old  doll.  Maria  had  laid  it  on 
the  pillow  beside  her. 

It  was  beautifully  dressed,  although  in  a 
queer,  old-fashioned  style  that  seemed  very 
strange  to  the  child. 

She  took  it  up  with  careful  fingers,  remem- 
bering its  great  age.  Maria  had  warned  her 
not  to  waken  her  grandfather,  so  she  admired 
it  in  whispers. 

"  Jus'  think,  Fritz,"  she  exclaimed,  "  this 
doll  has  seen  my  Gran'mothah  Amanthis,  an' 
it's  named  for  her.  My  mothah  wasn't  any 
bigger'n  me  when  she  played  with  it.  I  think 
it  is  the  loveliest  doll  I  evah  saw  in  my  whole 
life." 

Fritz  gave  a  jealous  bark. 

"  Sh ! "  commanded  his  little  mistress. 
83 


84  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

"  Didn't  you  heah  M'ria  say,  '  Fo'  de  Lawd's 
sake  don't  wake  up  ole  Marse  ? '  Why  don't 
you  mind  ?  " 

The  Colonel  was  not  in  the  best  of  humours 
after  such  a  wakeful  night,  but  the  sight  of 
her  happiness  made  him  smile  in  spite  of  him- 
self, when  she  danced  into  his  room  with  the 
doll. 

She  had  eaten  an  early  breakfast  and  gone 
back  up-stairs  to  examine  the  other  toys  that 
were  spread  out  in  her  room. 

The  door  between  the  two  rooms  was  ajar. 
All  the  time  he  was  dressing  and  taking  his 
coffee  he  could  hear  her  talking  to  some  one. 
He  supposed  it  was  Maria.  But  as  he  glanced 
over  his  mail  he  heard  the  Little  Colonel  spy- 
ing, "  May  Lilly,  do  you  know  about  Billy 
Goat  Gruff?  Do  you  want  me  to  tell  you  that 
story  ?  " 

He  leaned  forward  until  he  could  look 
through  the  narrow  opening  of  the  door.  Two 
heads  were  all  he  could  see,  —  Lloyd's,  soft- 
haired  and  golden,  May  Lilly's,  covered  with 
dozens  of  tightly  braided  little  black  tails. 

He  was  about  to  order  May  Lilly  back  to 
the  cabin,  when  he  remembered  the  scene  that 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  85 

followed  the  last  time  he  had  done  so.  He  con- 
cluded to  keep  quiet  and  listen. 

"  Billy  Goat  Gruff  was  so  fat,"  the  story 
went  on,  "  jus'  as  fat  as  gran'fathah." 

The  Colonel  glanced  up  with  an  amused 
smile  at  the  fine  figure  reflected  in  an  opposite 
mirror. 

"  Trip-trap,  trip-trap,  went  Billy  Goat 
Gruff's  little  feet  ovah  the  bridge  to  the  giant's 
house." 

Just  at  this  point  Walker,  who  was  putting 
things  in  order,  closed  the  door  between  the 
rooms. 

"  Open  that  door,  you  black  rascal !  "  called 
the  Colonel,  furious  at  the  interruption. 

In  his  haste  to  obey,  Walker  knocked  over  a 
pitcher  of  water  that  had  been  left  on  the  floor 
beside  the  wash-stand. 

Then  the  Colonel  yelled  at  him  to  be  quick 
pbout  mopping  it  up,  so  that  by  the  time  the 
door  was  finally  opened,  Lloyd  was  finishing 
her  story. 

The  Colonel  looked  in  just  in  time  to  see  her 
put  her  hands  to  her  temples,  with  her  fore- 
fingers protruding  from  her  forehead  like 
horns.  She  said  in  a  deep  voice,  as  she  brand- 


86  THE   LITTLE    COLONEL 

ished  them  at  May  Lilly,  "  With  my  two  long 
speahs  I'll  poke  yo'  eyeballs  through  yo' 
yeahs." 

The  little  darky  fell  back  giggling.  "  That 
sut'n'y  was  like  a  billy-goat.  We  had  one  once 
that  'ud  make  a  body  step  around  mighty  peart. 
It  slip  up  behine  me  one  mawnin'  on  the  poach, 
an'  fo'  awhile  I  thought  my  haid  was  buss  open 
suah.  I  got  up  toreckly,  though,  an'  I  cotch 
him,  and  when  I  done  got  through,  Mistah 
Billy-goat  feel  po'ly  moah'n  a  week.  He  sut'n'y 
did." 

Walker  grinned,  for  he  had  witnessed  the 
scene. 

Just  then  Maria  put  her  head  in  at  the  door 
to  say,  "  May  Lilly,  yo'  mammy's  callin'  you." 

Lloyd  and  Fritz  followed  her  noisily  down- 
stairs. Then  for  nearly  an  hour  it  was  very 
quiet  in  the  great  house. 

The  Colonel,  looking  out  of  the  window, 
could  see  Lloyd  playing  hide-and-seek  with 
Fritz  under  the  bare  locust-trees. 

When  she  came  in  her  cheeks  were  glowing 
from  her  run  in  the  frosty  air.  Her  eyes  shone 
like  stars,  and  her  face  was  radiant. 

"  See  what  I've  found  down  in  the  dead 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  »/ 

leaves,"  she  cried.  "  A  little  blue  violet, 
bloomin'  all  by  itself." 

She  brought  a  tiny  cup  from  the  next  room, 
that  belonged  to  the  set  of  doll  dishes,  and  put 
the  violet  in  it. 

"  There!  "  she  said,  setting  it  on  the  table  at 
her  grandfather's  elbow.  "  Now  I'll  put  Aman- 
this  in  this  chair,  where  you  can  look  at  her, 
an'  you  won't  get  lonesome  while  I'm  playing 
outdoors." 

He  drew  her  toward  him  and  kissed  her. 

"  Why,  how  cold  your  hands  are!  "  he  ex- 
claimed. "  Staying  in  this  warm  room  all  the 
time  makes  me  forget  it  is  so  wintry  outdoors. 
I  don't  believe  you  are  dressed  warmly  enough. 
You  ought  not  to  wear  sunbonnets  this  time  of 
year." 

Then  for  the  first  time  he  noticed  her  out- 
grown cloak  and  shabby  shoes. 

"  What  are  you  wearing  these  old  clothes 
for?  "  he  said,  impatiently.  "  Why  didn't  they 
dress  you  up  when  you  were  going  visiting?  It 
isn't  showing  proper  respect  to  send  you  off  in 
the  oldest  things  you've  got." 

It  was  a  sore  point  with  the  Little  Colonel. 
It  hurt  her  pride  enough  to  have  to  wear  old 


88  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

clothes  without  being  scolded  for  it.  Besides, 
she  felt  that  in  some  way  her  mother  was  being 
blamed  for  what  could  not  be  helped. 

"  They's  the  best  I've  got,"  she  answered, 
proudly  choking  back  the  tears.  "  I  don't  need 
any  new  ones,  'cause  maybe  we'll  be  goin'  away 
pretty  soon." 

"  Going  away ! "  he  echoed,  blankly. 
"Where?" 

She  did  not  answer  until  he  repeated  the 
question.  Then  she  turned  her  back  on  him, 
and  started  toward  the  door.  The  tears  she 
was  too  proud  to  let  him  see  were  running 
down  her  face. 

"  We's  goin'  to  the  poah-house,"  she  ex- 
claimed, defiantly,  "  jus'  as  soon  as  the  money 
in  the  pocketbook  is  used  up.  It  was  nearly 
gone  when  I  came  away." 

Here  she  began  to  sob,  as  she  fumbled  at  the 
door  she  could  not  see  to  open. 

"  I'm  goin'  home  to  my  mothah  right  now. 
She  loves  me  if  my  clothes  are  old  and  ugly." 

"  Why,  Lloyd,"  called  the  Colonel,  amazed 
and  distressed  by  her  sudden  burst  of  grief. 
"  Come  here  to  grandpa.  Why  didn't  you  tell 
me  so  before  ?  " 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  89 

The  face,  the  tone,  the  outstretched  arm,  all 
drew  her  irresistibly  to  him.  It  was  a  relief  to 
lay  her  head  on  his  shoulder,  and  unburden 
herself  of  the  fear  that  had  haunted  her  so 
many  days. 

With  her  arms  around  his  neck,  and  the 
precious  little  head  held  close  to  his  heart,  the 
old  Colonel  was  in  such  a  softened  mood  that 
he  would  have  promised  anything  to  comfort 
her. 

"  There,  there,"  he  said,  soothingly,  stroking 
her  hair  with  a  gentle  hand,  when  she  had  told 
him  all  her  troubles.  "  Don't  you  worry  about 
that,  my  dear.  Nobody  is  going  to  eat  out  of 
tin  pans  and  sleep  on  straw.  Grandpa  just 
won't  let  them." 

She  sat  up  and  wiped  her  eyes  on  her 
apron.  "  But  Papa  Jack  would  die  befo'  he'd 
take  help  from  you,"  she  wailed.  "  An'  so 
would  mothah.  I  heard  her  tell  the  doctah 
so." 

The  tender  expression  on  the  Colonel's  face 
changed  to  one  like  flint,  but  he  kept  on  strok- 
ing her  hair. 

"  People  sometimes  change  their  minds,"  he 
said,  grimly.  "  I  wouldn't  worry  over  a  little 


90  THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 

thing  like  that  if  I  were  you.  Don't  you  want 
to  run  down-stairs  and  tell  M'ria  to  give  you  a/ 
piece  of  cake?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,'rshe  exclaimed,  smiling  up  at  him. 
"  I'll  bring  you  some,  too." 

When  the  first  train  went  into  Louisville  that 
afternoon,  Walker  was  on  board  with  an  order 
in  his  pocket  to  one  of  the  largest  dry  goods 
establishments  in  the  city.  When  he  came  out 
again  that  evening,  he  carried  a  large  box  into 
the  Colonel's  room. 

Lloyd's  eyes  shone  as  she  looked  into  it. 
There  was  an  elegant  fur-trimmed  cloak,  a 
pair  of  dainty  shoes,  and  a  muff  that  she  caught 
up  with  a  shriek  of  delight. 

"  What  kind  of  a  thing  is  this?  "  grumbled 
the  Colonel,  as  he  took  out  a  hat  that  had  been 
carefully  packed  in  one  corner  of  the  box.  "  I 
told  them  to  send  the  most  stylish  thing  they 
had.  It  looks  like  a  scarecrow,"  he  continued, 
as  he  set  it  askew  on  the  child's  head. 

She  snatched  it  off  to  look  at  it  herself. 
"  Oh,  it's  jus'  like  Emma  Louise  Wyfo'd's !  " 
she  exclaimed.  "  You  didn't  put  it  on  straight. 
See!  This  is  the  way  it  goes." 

She  climbed  up  in  front  of  the  mirror,  and 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


put  it  on  as  she  had  seen  Emma  Louise  wear 
hers. 

"  Well,  it's  a 
regular  Napoleon 
hat,"  exclaimed 
the  Colonel,  much 
pleased.  "  So  little 
girls  nowadays 
have  taken  to 
wearing  soldier's 
caps,  have  they  ? 
It's  right  becoming 
to  you  with  your 
short  hair.  Grandpa 
is  real  proud  of 
his  '  little  Colo- 
nel.' " 

She  gave  him 
the  military  salutej 
he  had  taught  her, 
and  then  ran  to 
throw  her  arms 
around  him.  "  Oh, 
gran'fathah!  "  she 
exclaimed  between  her  kisses,  "  you'se  jus'  as 
good  as  Santa  Claus,  every  bit." 


92  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

The  Colonel's  rheumatism  was  better  next 
day;  so  much  better  that  toward  evening  he 
walked  down-stairs  into  the  long  drawing- 
room.  The  room  had  not  been  illuminated  in 
years  as  it  was  that  night. 

Every  wax  taper  was  lighted  in  the  silver 
candelabra,  and  the  dim  old  mirrors  multiplied 
their  lights  on  every  side.  A  great  wood  fire 
threw  a  cheerful  glow  over  the  portraits  and 
the  frescoed  ceiling.  All  the  linen  covers  had 
been  taken  from  the  furniture. 

Lloyd,  who  had  never  seen  this  room  except 
with  the  chairs  shrouded  and  the  blinds  down, 
came  running  in  presently.  She  was  be- 
wildered at  first  by  the  change.  Then  she 
began  walking  softly  around  the  room,  exam- 
ining everything. 

In  one  corner  stood  a  tall,  gilded  harp  that 
her  grandmother  had  played  in  her  girlhood. 
The  heavy  cover  had  kept  it  fair  and  untar- 
nished through  all  the  years  it  had  stood  un- 
used. To  the  child's  beauty-loving  eyes  it 
seemed  the  loveliest  thing  she  had  ever  seen. 

She  stood  with  her  hands  clasped  behind  her 
as  her  gaze  wandered  from  its  pedals  to  the 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  93 

graceful  curves  of  its  tall  frame.  It  shone  like 
burnished  gold  in  the  soft  firelight. 

"  Oh,  gran'fathah !  "  she  asked  at  last  in  a 
low,  reverent  tone,  "  where  did  you  get  it  ? 
Did  an  angel  leave  it  heah  fo'  you  ?  " 

He  did  not  answer  for  a  moment.  Then  he 
said,  huskily,  as  he  looked  up  at  a  portrait  over 
the  mantel,  "  Yes,  my  darling,  an  angel  did 
leave  it  here.  She  always  was  one.  Come  here 
to  grandpa." 

He  took  her  on  his  knee,  and  pointed  up  to 
the  portrait.  The  same  harp  was  in  the  pic- 
ture. Standing  beside  it,  with  one  hand  rest- 
ing on  its  shining  strings,  was  a  young  girl  all 
in  white. 

"  That's  the  way  she  looked  the  first  time  I 
ever  saw  her,"  said  the  Colonel,  dreamily.  "  A 
June  rose  in  her  hair,  and  another  at  her  throat ; 
and  her  soul  looked  right  out  through  those 
great,  dark  eyes  —  the  purest,  sweetest  soul 
God  ever  made !  My  beautiful  Amanthis !  " 

"  My  bu'ful  Amanthis!  "  repeated  the  child, 
in  an  awed  whisper. 

She  sat  gazing  into  the  lovely  young  face  for 
a  long  time,  while  the  old  man  seemed  lost  in 
dreams. 


94  THE   LITTLE   COLONEL 

"  Gran'fathah,"  she  said  at  length,  patting 
his  cheek  to  attract  his  attention,  and  then 
nodding  toward  the  portrait,  "  did  she  love  my 
mothah  like  my  mothah  loves  me?" 

"  Certainly,  my  dear,"  was  the  gentle  reply. 

It  was  the  twilight  hour,  when  the  homesick 
feeling  always  came  back  strongest  to  Lloyd. 

"  Then  I  jus'  know  that  if  my  bu'ful  gran'- 
mothah  Amanthis  could  come  down  out  of  that 
frame,  she'd  go  straight  and  put  her  arms 
around  my  mothah  an'  kiss  away  all  her  sorry 
feelin's." 

The  Colonel  fidgeted  uncomfortably  in  his 
chair  a  moment.  Then  to  his  great  relief  the 
tea-bell  rang. 


CHAPTER    IX. 

EVERY  evening  after  that  during  Lloyd's 
visit  the  fire  burned  on  the  hearth  of  the  long 
drawing-room.  All  the  wax  candles  were 
lighted,  and  the  vases  were  kept  full  of  flowers, 
fresh  from  the  conservatory. 

She  loved  to  steal  into  the  room  before  her 
grandfather  came  down,  and  carry  on  imagi- 
nary conversations  with  the  old  portraits. 

Tom's  handsome,  boyish  face  had  the  great- 
est attraction  for  her.  His  eyes  looked  down 
so  smilingly  into  hers  that  she  felt  he  surely 
understood  every  word  she  said  to  him. 

Once  Walker  overheard  her  saying,  "  Uncle 
Tom,  I'm  goin'  to  tell  you  a  story  'bout  Billy 
Goat  Gruff." 

Peeping  into  the  room,  he  saw  the  child  look- 
ing earnestly  up  at  the  picture,  with  her  hands 
clasped  behind  her,  as  she  began  to  repeat  her 
favourite  story.  "  It  do  beat  all,"  he  said  to 
95 


96  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

himself,  "  how  one  little  chile  like  that  can  wake 
up  a  whole  house.'  She's  the  life  of  the  place." 

The  last  evening  of  her  visit,  as  the  Colonel 
was  coming'  down-stairs  he  heard  the  faint 
vibration  of  a  harp-string.  It  was  the  first  time 
Lloyd  had  ever  ventured  to  touch  one.  He 
paused  on  the  steps  opposite  the  door,  and 
looked  in. 

"  Heah,  Fritz,"  she  was  saying,  "  you  get 
up  on  the  sofa,  an'  be  the  company,  an'  I'll  sing 
fo'  you." 

Fritz,  on  the  rug  before  the  fire,  opened  one 
sleepy  eye  and  closed  it  again.  She  stamped 
her  foot,  and  repeated  her  order.  He  paid  no 
attention.  Then  she  picked  him  up  bodily,  and, 
with  much  puffing  and  pulling,  lifted  him  into 
a  chair. 

He  waited  until  she  had  gone  back  to  the 
harp,  and  then,  with  one  spring,  disappeared 
under  the  sofa. 

"  N'm  min',"  she  said,  in  a  disgusted  tone. 
"  I'll  pay  you  back,  mistah."  Then  she  looked 
up  at  the  portrait.  "  Uncle  Tom,"  she  said, 
"you  be  the  company,  an'  I'll  play  fo'  you." 

Her  fingers  touched  the  strings  so  lightly 
that  there  was  no  discord  in  the  random  tones. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 


98  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

Her  voice  carried  the  air  clear  and  true,  and  the 
faint  trembling  of  the  harp-strings  interfered 
with  the  harmony  no  more  than  if  a  wandering 
breeze  had  been  tangled  in  them  as  it  passed. 

"  Sing  me  the  songs  that  to  me  were  so  deah 

Long,  long  ago,  long  ago. 
Tell  me  the  tales  I  delighted  to  heah 
Long,  long  ago,  long  ago." 

The  sweet  little  voice  sang  it  to  the  end 
without  missing  a  word.  It  was  the  lullaby  her 
mother  oftenest  sang  to  her. 

The  Colonel,  who  had  sat  down  on  the  steps 
to  listen,  wiped  his  eyes. 

"  My  '  long  ago  '  is  all  that  I  have  left  to 
me,"  he  thought,  bitterly,  "  for  to-morrow  this 
little  one,  who  brings  back  my  past  with  every 
word  and  gesture,  will  leave  me,  too.  Why 
can't  that  Jack  Sherman  die  while  he's  about 
it,  and  let  me  have  my  own  back  again?  " 

That  question  recurred  to  him  many  times 
during  the  week  after  Lloyd's  departure.  He 
missed  her  happy  voice  at  every  turn.  He 
missed  her  bright  face  at  the  table.  The  house 
seemed  so  big  and  desolate  without  her.  He 
ordered  all  the  covers  put  back  on  the  drawing- 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  99 

room  furniture,  and  the  door  locked  as  be- 
fore. 

It  was  a  happy  moment  for  the  Little  Colonel 
when  she  was  lifted  down  from  Maggie  Boy  at 
the  cottage  gate. 

She  went  dancing  into  the  house,  so  glad  to 
find  herself  in  her  mother's  arms  that  she  for- 
got all  about  the  new  cloak  and  muff  that  had 
made  her  so  proud  and  happy. 

She  found  her  father  propped  up  among  the 
pillows,  his  fever  all  gone,  and  the  old  mis- 
chievous twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

He  admired  her  new  clothes  extravagantly, 
paying  her  joking  compliments  until  her  face 
beamed;  but  when  she  had  danced  off  to  find 
Mom  Beck,  he  turned  to  his  wife.  "  Eliza- 
beth," he  said,  wonderingly,  "  what  do  you 
suppose  the  old  fellow  gave  her  clothes  for? 
I  don't  like  it.  I'm  no  beggar  if  I  have  lost 
lots  of  money.  After  all  that's  passed  between 
us  I  don't  feel  like  taking  anything  from  his 
hands,  or  letting  my  child  do  it,  either." 

To  his  great  surprise  she  laid  her  head  down 
on  his  pillow  beside  his  and  burst  into  tea'rs. 

"  Oh,  Jack,"  she  sobbed,  "  I  spent  the  last 
dollar  this  morning.  I  wasn't  going  to  tell  you, 


IOO  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

but  I  don't  know  what  is  to  become  of  us.  He 
gave  Lloyd  those  things  because  she  was  just  in 
rags,  and  I  couldn't  afford  to  get  anything 
new." 

He  looked  perplexed.  "  Why,  I  brought 
home  so  much,"  he  said,  in  a  distressed  tone. 
"  I  knew  I  was  in  for  a  long  siege  of  sickness, 
but  I  was  sure  there  was  enough  to  tide  us  over 
that." 

She  raised  her  head.  "  You  brought  money 
home!"  she  replied,  in  surprise.  "I  hoped 
you  had,  and  looked  through  all  your  things, 
but  there  was  only  a  little  change  in  one  of  your 
pockets.  You  must  have  imagined  it  when  you 
were  delirious." 

"  What !  "  he  cried,  sitting  bolt  upright,  and 
then  sinking  weakly  back  among  the  pillows. 
"  You  poor  child !  You  don't  mean  to  tell  me 
you  have  been  skimping  along  all  these  weeks 
on  just  that  check  I  sent  you  before  starting 
home." 

"  Yes,"  she  sobbed,  her  face  still  buried  in 
the  pillow.  She  had  borne  the  strain  of  con- 
tinued anxiety  so  long  that  she  could  not  stop 
her  tears,  now  they  had  once  started. 

It    was    with    a    very    thankful    heart    she 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  IOI 

watched  him  take  a  pack  of  letters  from  the 
coat  she  brought  to  his  bedside,  and  draw  out 
a  sealed  envelope. 

"  Well,  I  never  once  thought  of  looking 
among  those  letters  for  money,"  she  exclaimed, 
as  he  held  it  up  with  a  smile. 

His  investments  of  the  summer  before  had 
prospered  beyond  his  greatest  hopes,  he  told 
her.  "  Brother  Rob  is  looking  after  my  inter- 
ests out  West,  as  well  as  his  own,"  he  ex- 
plained, "  and  as  his  father-in-law  is  the  grand 
mogul  of  the  place,  I  have  the  inside  track. 
Then  that  firm  I  went  security  for  in  New  York 
is  nearly  on  its  feet  again,  and  I'll  have  back 
every  dollar  I  ever  paid  out  for  them.  Nobody 
ever  lost  anything  by  those  men  in  the  long 
run.  We'll  be  on  top  again  by  this  time  next 
year,  little  wife;  so  don't  borrow  any  more 
trouble  on  that  score." 

The  doctor  made  his  last  visit  that  afternoon. 
It  really  seemed  as  if  there  would  never  be  any 
more  dark  days  at  the  little  cottage. 

"  The  clouds  have  all  blown  away  and  left 
us  their  silver  linings,"  said  Mrs.  Sherman  the 
day  her  husband  was  able  to  go  out-of-doors 
for  the  first  time.  He  walked  down  to  the  post- 


IO2  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

office,  and  brought  back  a  letter  from  the  West. 
It  had  such  encouraging  reports  of  his  business 
that  he  was  impatient  to  get  back  to  it.  He 
wrote  a  reply  early  in  the  afternoon,  and  in- 
sisted on  going  to  mail  it  himself. 

"  I'll  never  get  my  strength  back,"  he  pro- 
tested, "  unless  I  have  more  exercise." 

It  was  a  cold,  gray  November  day.  A 
few  flakes  of  snow  were  falling  when  he 
started. 

"  I'll  stop  and  rest  at  the  Tylers',"  he  called 
back,  "  so  don't  be  uneasy  if  I'm  out  some 
time." 

After  he  left  the  post-office  the  fresh  air 
tempted  him  to  go  farther  than  he  had  in- 
tended. At  a  long  distance  from  his  home  his 
strength  seemed  suddenly  to  desert  him.  The 
snow  began  to  fall  in  earnest.  Numb  with  cold, 
he  groped  his  way  back  to  the  house,  almost 
fainting  from  exhaustion. 

Lloyd  was  blowing  soap-bubbles  when  she 
saw  him  come  in  and  fall  heavily  across  the 
couch.  The  ghastly  pallor  of  his  face  and  his 
closed  eyes  frightened  her  so  that  she  dropped 
the  little  clay  pipe  she  was  using.  As  she 
stooped  to  pick  up  the  broken  pieces,  her 


THE    LITTLE   COLONEL  1 03 

mother's  cry  startled  her  still  more.  "  Lloyd, 
run  call  Becky,  quick,  quick !  Oh,  he's  dy- 
ing!" 

Lloyd  gave  one  more  terrified  look  and  ran 
to  the  kitchen,  screaming  for  Mom  Beck.  No 
one  was  there. 

The  next  instant  she  was  running  bareheaded 
as  fast  as  she  could  go,  up  the  road  to  Locust. 
She  was  confident  of  finding  help  there. 

The  snowflakes  clung  to  her  hair  and  blew 
against  her  soft  cheeks.  All  she  could  see  was 
her  mother  wringing  her  hands,  and  her 
father's  white  face.  When  she  burst  into  the 
house  where  the  Colonel  sat  reading  by  the 
fire,  she  was  so  breathless  at  first  that  she  could 
only  gasp  when  she  tried  to  speak. 

"  Come  quick !  "  she  cried.  "  Papa  Jack's 
a-dyin' !  Come  stop  him !  " 

At  her  first  impetuous  words  the  Colonel  was 
on  his  feet.  She  caught  him  by  the  hand  and 
led  him  to  the  door  before  he  fully  realized 
what  she  wanted.  Then  he  drew  back.  She 
was  impatient  at  the  slightest  delay,  and  only 
half  answered  his  questions. 

"  Oh,  come,  gran'fathah !  "  she  pleaded. 
"  Don't  wait  to  talk !  "  But  he  held  her  until 


IO4  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

he  had  learned  all  the  circumstances.  He  was 
convinced  by  what  she  told  him  that  both  Lloyd 
and  her  mother  were  unduly  alarmed.  When 
he  found  that  no  one  had  sent  for  him,  but  that 
the  child  had  come  of  her  own  accord,  he  re- 
fused to  go. 

He  did  not  believe  that  the  man  was  dying, 
and  he  did  not  intend  to  step  aside  one  inch 
from  the  position  he  had  taken.  For  seven 
years  he  had  kept  the  vow  he  made  when  he 
swore  to  be  a  stranger  to  his  daughter.  He 
would  keep  it  for  seventy  times  seven  years  if 
need  be. 

She  looked  at  him  perfectly  bewildered.  She 
had  been  so  accustomed  to  his  humouring  her 
slightest  whims,  that  it  had  never  occurred  to 
her  he  would  fail  to  help  in  a  time  of  such  dis- 
tress. 

"  Why,  gran'fathah,"  she  began,  her  lips 
trembling  piteously.  Then  her  whole  expres- 
sion changed.  Her  face  grew  startlingly  white, 
and  her  eyes  seemed  so  big  and  black.  The 
Colonel  looked  at  her  in  surprise.  He  had 
never  seen  a  child  in  such  a  passion  before. 
"  I  hate  you !  I  hate  you !  "  she  exclaimed, 
all  in  a  tremble.  "  You's  a  cruel,  wicked  man. 


THE*LITTLE    COLONEL  IO5 

I'll  nevah  come  heah  again,  nevah !  nevah ! 
nevah !  " 

The  tears  rolled  down  her  cheeks  as  she 
banged  the  door  behind  her  and  ran  down  the 
avenue,  her  little  heart  so  full  of  grief  and  dis- 
appointment that  she  felt  she  could  not  possi- 
bly bear  it. 

For  more  than  an  hour  the  Colonel  walked 
up  and  down  the  room,  unable  to  shut  out  the 
anger  and  disappointment  of  that  little  face. 

He  knew  she  was  too  much  like  himself  ever 
to  retract  her  words.  She  would  never  come 
back.  He  never  knew  until  that  hour  how 
much  he  loved  her,  or  how  much  she  had  come 
to  mean  in  his  life.  She  was  gone  hopelessly 
beyond  recall,  unless  — 

He  unlocked  the  door  of  the  drawing-room 
and  went  in.  A  faint  breath  of  dried  rose- 
leaves  greeted  him.  He  walked  over  to  the 
empty  fireplace  and  looked  up  at  the  sweet  face 
of  the  portrait  a  long  time.  Then  he  leaned 
his  arm  on  the  mantel  and  bowed  his  head  on 
it.  "  Oh,  Amanthis,"  he  groaned,  "  tell  me 
what  to  do." 

Lloyd's  own  words  came  oack  to  him. 
"  She'd  go  right  straight  an'  put  her  arms 


to6  THE  LITTLE  COLONEL 

around  my  mothah  an'  kiss  away  all  the  sorry 
feelin's." 

It  was  a  long  time  he  stood  there.  The  bat- 
tle between  his  love  and  pride  was  a  hard  one. 
At  last  he  raised  his  head  and  saw  that  the 
short  winter  day  was  almost  over.  Without 
waiting  to  order  his  horse  he  started  off  in  the 
falling  snow  toward  the  cottage. 


CHAPTER    X. 

A  GOOD  many  forebodings  crowded  into  the 
Colonel's  mind  as  he  walked  hurriedly  on.  He 
wondered  how  he  would  be  received.  What  if 
Jack  Sherman  had  died  after  all?  What  if 
Elizabeth  should  refuse  to  see  him?  A  dozen 
times  before  he  reached  the  gate  he  pictured  to 
himself  the  probable  scene  of  their  meeting. 

He  was  out  of  breath  and  decidedly  disturbed 
in  mind  when  he  walked  up  the  path.  As  he 
paused  on  the  porch  steps,  Lloyd  came  running 
around  the  house  carrying  her  parrot  on  a 
broom. 

Her  hair  was  blowing  around  her  rosy  face 
under  the  Napoleon  hat  she  wore,  and  she  was 
singing. 

The  last  two  hours  had  made  a  vast  change 
in  her  feelings.  Her  father  had  only  fainted 
from  exhaustion. 

When  she  came  running  back  from  Locust, 
107 


IO8  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

she  was  afraid  to  go  in  the  house,  lest  what  she 
dreaded  most  had  happened  while  she  was 
gone.  She  opened  the  door  timidly  and  peeped 
in.  Her  father's  eyes  were  open.  Then  she 
heard  him  speak.  She  ran  into  the  room,  and, 
burying  her  head  in  her  mother's  lap,  sobbed 
out  the  story  of  her  visit  to  Locust. 

To  her  great  surprise  her  father  began  to 
laugh,  and  laughed  so  heartily  as  she  repeated 
her  saucy  speech  to  her  grandfather,  that  it 
took  the  worst  sting  out  of  her  disappointment. 

All  the  time  the  Colonel  had  been  fighting 
his  pride  among  the  memories  of  the  dim  old 
drawing-room,  Lloyd  had  been  playing  with 
Fritz  and  Polly. 

Now  as  she  came  suddenly  face  to  face  with 
her  grandfather,  she  dropped  the  disgusted 
bird  in  the  snow,  and  stood  staring  at  him 
with  startled  eyes.  If  he  had  fallen  out  of  the 
sky  she  could  not  have  been  more  astonished. 

"  Where  is  your  mother,  child  ?  "  he  asked, 
trying  to  speak  calmly.  With  a  backward  look, 
as  if  she  could  not  believe  the  evidence  of  her 
own  sight,  she  led  the  way  into  the  hall. 

"  Mothah !  Mothah !  "  she  called,  pushing 
open  the  parlour  door.  "  Come  heah,  quick !  " 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  lOQ 

The  Colonel,  taking  the  hat  from  his  white 
head,  and  dropping  it  on  the  floor,  took  an 
expectant  step  forward.  There  was  a  slight 
rustle,  and  Elizabeth  stood  in  the  doorway. 
For  just  a  moment  they  looked  into  each  other's 
faces.  Then  the  Colonel  held  out  his  arm. 

"  Little  daughter,"  he  said,  in  a  tremulous 
voice.  The  love  of  a  lifetime  seemed  to  tremble 
in  those  two  words. 

In  an  instant  her  arms  were  around  his  neck, 
and  he  was  "  kissing  away  the  sorry  feelin's  " 
as  tenderly  as  the  lost  Amanthis  could  have 
done. 

As  soon  as  Lloyd  began  to  realize  what  was 
happening,  her  face  grew  radiant.  She  danced 
around  in  such  excitement  that  Fritz  barked 
wildly. 

"  Come  an'  see  Papa  Jack,  too,"  she  cried, 
leading  him  into  the  next  room. 

Whatever  deep-rooted  prejudices  Jack  Sher- 
man may  have  had,  they  were  unselfishly  put 
aside  after  one  look  into  his  wife's  happy  face. 

He  raised  himself  on  his  elbow  as  the  digni- 
fied old  soldier  crossed  the  room.  The  .white 
hair,  the  empty  sleeve,  the  remembrance  of  all 
the  old  man  had  lost,  and  the  thought  that 


IIO  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

after  all  he  was  Elizabeth's  father,  sent  a  very 
tender  feeling  through  the  younger  man's 
heart. 

"  Will  you  take  my  hand,  sir  ?  "  he  asked, 
sitting  up  and  offering  it  in  his  straightforward 
way. 

"  O'f  co'se  he  will !  "  exclaimed  Lloyd,  who 
still  clung  to  her  grandfather's  arm.  "  Of  co'se 
he  will!" 

"  I  have  been  too  near  death  to  harbour  ill 
will  any  longer,"  said  the  younger  man,  as  their 
hands  met  in  a  strong,  forgiving  clasp. 

The  old  Colonel  smiled  grimly. 

"  I  had  thought  that  even  death  itself  could 
not  make  me  give  in,"  he  said,  "  but  I've  had 
to  make  a  complete  surrender  to  the  Little 
Colonel." 

That  Christmas  there  was  such  a  celebration 
at  Locust  that  May  Lilly  and  Henry  Clay 
nearly  went  wild  in  the  general  excitement  of 
the  preparation.  Walker  hung  up  cedar  and 
holly  and  mistletoe  till  the  big  house  looked 
like  a  bower.  Maria  bustled  about,  airing 
rooms  and  bringing  out  stores  of  linen  and 
silver. 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  I  1 1 

The  Colonel  himself  filled  the  great  punch- 
bowl that  his  grandfather  had  brought  from 
Virginia. 

"  I'm  glad  we're  goin'  to  stay  heah  to-night," 
said  Lloyd,  as  she  hung  up  her  stocking  Christ- 
mas Eve.  "  It  will  be  so  much  easiah  fo'  Santa 
Claus  to  get  down  these  big  chimneys." 

In  the  morning  when  she  found  four  tiny 
stockings  hanging  beside  her  own,  overflowing 
with  candy  for  Fritz,  her  happiness  was  com- 
plete. 

That  night  there  was  a  tree  in  the  drawing- 
room  that  reached  to  the  frescoed  ceiling. 
When  May  Lilly  came  in  to  admire  it  and  get 
her  share  from  its  loaded  branches,  Lloyd  came 
skipping  up  to  her.  "  Oh,  I'm  goin'  to  live 
heah  all  wintah,"  she  cried.  "  Mom  Beck's 
goin'  to  stay  heah  with  me,  too,  while  mothah 
an'  Papa  Jack  go  down  South  where  the  alliga- 
tahs  live.  Then  when  they  get  well  an'  come 
back,  Papa  Jack  is  goin'  to  build  a  house  on  the 
othah  side  of  the  lawn.  I'm  to  live  in  both 
places  at  once ;  mothah  said  so." 

There  were  music  and  light,  laughing  voices 
and  happy  hearts  in  the  old  home  that  night. 
It  seemed  as  if  the  old  place  had  awakened 


112  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

from  a  long  dream  and  found  itself  young 
again. 

The  plan  the  Little  Colonel  unfolded  to  May 
Lilly  was  carried  out  in  every  detail.  It  seemed 
a  long  winter  to  the  child,  but  it  was  a  happy 
one.  There  were  not  so  many  displays  of  tem- 
per now  that  she  was  growing  older,  but  the 
letters  that  went  southward  every  week  were 
full  of  her  odd  speeches  and  mischievous 
pranks.  The  old  Colonel  found  it  hard  to  re- 
fuse her  anything.  If  it  had  not  been  for  Mom 
Beck's  decided  ways,  the  child  would  have  been 
sadly  spoiled. 

At  last  the  spring  came  again.  The  pewees 
sang  in  the  cedars.  The  dandelions  sprinkled 
the  roadsides  like  stars.  The  locust-trees 
tossed  up  the  white  spray  of  their  fragrant 
blossoms  with  every  wave  of  their  green 
boughs. 

"  They'll  soon  be  heah !  They'll  soon  be 
heah !  "  chanted  the  Little  Colonel  every  day. 

The  morning  they  came  she  had  been  down 
the  avenue  a  dozen  times  to  look  for  them 
before  the  carriage  had  even  started  to  meet 
them. 


THE   LITTLE    COLONEL  11$ 

"  Walkah,"  she  called,  "  cut  me  a  big  locus' 
bough.  I  want  to  wave  it  fo'  a  flag !  " 

Just  as  he  dropped  a  branch  down  at  her  feet, 
she  caught  the  sound  of  wheels.  "  Hurry, 
gran'fathah,"  she  called;  "  they's  comin'."  But 
the  old  Colonel  had  already  started  on  toward 
the  gate  to  meet  them.  The  carriage  stopped, 
and  in  a  moment  more  Papa  Jack  was  tossing 
Lloyd  up  in  his  arms,  while  the  old  Colonel 
was  helping  Elizabeth  to  alight. 

"  Isn't  this  a  happy  mawnin'  ?  "  exclaimed 
the  Little  Colonel,  as  she  leaned  from  her  seat 
on  her  father's  shoulder  to  kiss  his  sunburned 
cheek. 

"  A  very  happy  morning,"  echoed  her  grand- 
father, as  he  walked  on  toward  the  house  with 
Elizabeth's  hand  clasped  close  in  his  own. 

Long  after  they  had  passed  up  the  steps  the 
old  locusts  kept  echoing  the  Little  Colonel's 
words.  Years  ago  they  had  showered  their 
fragrant  blossoms  in  this  same  path  to  make 
a  sweet  white  way  for  Amanthis's  little  feet 
to  tread  when  the  Colonel  brought  home  his 
bride. 

They  had  dropped  their  tribute  on  the  coffin- 
lid  when  Tom  was  carried  home  under  their 


114  THE    LITTLE    COLONEL 

drooping  branches.  The  soldier-boy  had  loved 
them  so,  that  a  little  cluster  had  been  laid  on 
the  breast  of  the  gray  coat  he  wore. 

Night  and  day  they  had  guarded  this  old 
home  like  silent  sentinels  that  loved  it  well. 

Now,  as  they  looked  down  on  the  united 
family,  a  thiill  passed  through  them  to  their 
remotest  bloom-tipped  branches. 

It  sounded  only  like  a  faint  rustling  of  leaves, 
but  it  was  the  locusts  whispering  together. 
"  The  children  have  come  home  at  last,"  they 
kept  repeating.  "What  a  happy  morning! 
Oh,  what  a  happy  morning !  " 


THE   END. 


THE  GIANT  SCISSORS 


CHAPTER  PAGE 

I.  IN  THE  PEAR-TREE          .        .        .        .11 

II.  A  NEW  FAIRY  TALE      ....  26 

III.  BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE     ...  47 

IV.  A  LETTER  AND  A  MEETING   ...  65 
V.  A  THANKSGIVING  BARBECUE  ...  80 

VI.  JOYCE  PLAYS  GHOST       ....  100 

VII.  OLD  "NUMBER  THIRTY-ONE"         .        .  120 

VIII.  CHRISTMAS  PLANS  AND  AN  ACCIDENT  .  139 

IX.  A  GREAT  DISCOVERY      .        .        .        .  155 

X.     CHRISTMAS 174 


JULKS. 


THE  GATE   OF  THE   GIANT 
SCISSORS. 


CHAPTER   I. 

IN    THE    PEAR-TREE. 

JOYCE  was  crying,  up  in  old  Monsieur  Ore*- 
villa's  tallest  pear-tree.  She  had  gone  down 
to  the  farthest  corner  of  the  garden,  out  of 
sight  of  the  house,  for  she  did  not  want  any 
one  to  know  that  she  was  miserable  enough 
to  cry. 

She  was  tired  of  the  garden  with  the  high 
stone  wall  around  it,  that  made  her  feel  like  a 
prisoner;  she  was  tired  of  French  verbs  and 
foreign  faces  ;  she  was  tired  of  France,  and  so 
homesick  for  her  mother  and  Jack  and  Holland 
and  the  baby,  that  she  couldn't  help  crying. 


12         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

No  wonder,  for  she  was  only  twelve  years  old, 
and  she  had  never  been  out  of  the  little  West- 
ern village  where  she  was  born,  until  the  day 
she  started  abroad  with  her  Cousin  Kate. 

Now  she  sat  perched  up  on  a  limb  in  a  dis- 
mal bunch,  her  chin  in  her  hands  and  her 
elbows  on  her  knees.  It  was  a  gray  afternoon 
in  November ;  the  air  was  frosty,  although  the 
laurel-bushes  in  the  garden  were  all  in  bloom. 

"I  s'pect  there  is  snow  on  the  ground  at 
home,"  thought  Joyce,  "and  there's  a  big, 
cheerful  fire  in  the  sitting-room  grate. 

"  Holland  and  the  baby  are  shelling  corn,  and 
Mary  is  popping  it.  Dear  me !  I  can  smell  it 
just  as  plain !  Jack  will  be  coming  in  from  the 
post-office  pretty  soon,  and  maybe  he'll  have 
one  of  my  letters.  Mother  will  read  it  out 
loud,  and  there  they'll  all  be,  thinking  that  I 
am  having  such  a  fine  time;  that  it  is  such  a 
grand  thing  for  me  to  be  abroad  studying,  and 
having  dinner  served  at  night  in  so  many 
courses,  and  all  that  sort  of  thing.  They 
don't  know  that  I  am  sitting  up  here  in  this 
pear-tree,  lonesome  enough  to  die.  Oh,  if  I 
could  only  go  back  home  and  see  them  for 
even  five  minutes,"  she  sobbed,  "  but  I  can't ! 


IN    THE    PEAR-TREE.  1 3 

I  can't !  There's  a  whole  wide  ocean  between 
us!" 

She  shut  her  eyes,  and  leaned  back  against 
the  tree  as  that  desolate  feeling  of  homesick- 
ness settled  over  her  like  a  great  miserable 
ache.  Then  she  found  that  shutting  her  eyes, 
and  thinking  very  hard  about  the  little  brown 
house  at  home,  seemed  to  bring  it  into  plain 
sight.  It  was  like  opening  a  book,  and  seeing 
picture  after  picture  as  she  turned  the  pages. 

There  they  were  in  the  kitchen,  washing 
dishes,  she  and  Mary ;  and  Mary  was  stand- 
ing on  a  soap-box  to  make  her  tall  enough  to 
handle  the  dishes  easily.  How  her  funny  little 
braid  of  yellow  hair  bobbed  up  and  down  as  she 
worked,  and  how  her  dear  little  freckled  face 
beamed,  as  they  told  stories  to  each  other  to 
make  the  work  seem  easier. 

Mary's  stories  all  began  the  same  way :  "  If 
I  had  a  witch  with  a  wand,  this  is  what  we 
would  do."  The  witch  with  a  wand  had  come 
to  Joyce  in  the  shape  of  Cousin  Kate  Ware, 
and  that  coming  was  one  of  the  pictures  that 
Joyce  could  see  now,  as  she  thought  about  it 
with  her  eyes  closed. 

There  was   Holland  swinging  on  the   gate, 


14        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

waiting  for  her  to  come  home  from  school,  and 
trying  to  tell  her  by  excited  gestures,  long 
before  she  was  within  speaking  distance,  that 
some  one  was  in  the  parlor.  The  baby  had  on 
his  best  plaid  kilt  and  new  tie,  and  the  tired 
little  mother  was  sitting  talking  in  the  parlor, 
an  unusual  thing  for  her.  Joyce  could  see  her- 
self going  up  the  path,  swinging  her  sun-bonnet 
by  the  strings  and  taking  hurried  little  bites  of 
a  big  June  apple  in  order  to  finish  it  before 
going  into  the  house.  Now  she  was  sitting  on 
the  sofa  beside  Cousin  Kate,  feeling  very  awk- 
ward and  shy  with  her  little  brown  fingers 
clasped  in  this  stranger's  soft  white  hand. 
She  had  heard  that  Cousin  Kate  was  a  very 
rich  old  maid,  who  had  spent  years  abroad, 
studying  music  and  languages,  and  she  had 
expected  to  see  a  stout,  homely  woman  with 
bushy  eyebrows,  like  Miss  Teckla  Schaum, 
who  played  the  church  organ,  and  taught 
German  in  the  High  School. 

But  Cousin  Kate  was  altogether  unlike  Miss 
Teckla.  She  was  tall  and  slender,  she  was 
young-looking  and  pretty,  and  there  was  a 
stylish  air  about  her,  from  the  waves  of  her 
soft  golden  brown  hair  to  the  bottom  of  her 


IN    THE    PEAR-TREE.  15 

tailor-made  gown,  that  was  not  often  seen  in 
this  little  Western  village. 

Joyce  saw  herself  glancing  admiringly  at 
Cousin  Kate,  and  then  pulling  down  her  dress 
as  far  as  possible,  painfully  conscious  that  her 
shoes  were  untied,  and  white  with  dust.  The 
next  picture  was  several  days  later.  She  and 
Jack  were  playing  mumble-peg  outside  under 
the  window  by  the  lilac-bushes,  and  the  little 
mother  was  just  inside  the  door,  bending  over 
a  pile  of  photographs  that  Cousin  Kate  had 
dropped  in  her  lap.  Cousin  Kate  was  saying, 
"This  beautiful  old  French  villa  is  where  I 
expect  to  spend  the  winter,  Aunt  Emily. 
These  are  views  of  Tours,  the  town  that  lies 
across  the  river  Loire  from  it,  and  these  are 
some  of  the  chateaux  near  by  that  I  intend  to 
visit.  They  say  the  purest  French  in  the 
world  is  spoken  there.  I  have  prevailed  on 
one  of  the  dearest  old  ladies  that  ever  lived  to 
give  me  rooms  with  her.  She  and  her  husband 
live  all  alone  in  this  big  country  place,  so  I 
shall  have  to  provide  against  loneliness  by  tak- 
ing my  company  with  me.  Will  you  let  me 
have  Joyce  for  a  year  ? " 

Jack  and  she  stopped  playing  in  sheer 


1 6         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

ishment,  while  Cousin  Kate  went  on  to  explain 
how  many  advantages  she  could  give  the  little 
girl  to  whom  she  had  taken  such  a  strong  fancy. 

Looking  through  the  lilac -bushes,  Joyce 
could  see  her  mother  wipe  her  eyes  and  say, 
"  It  seems  like  pure  providence,  Kate,  and  I 
can  t  stand  in  the  child's  way.  She'll  have  to 
support  herself  soon,  and  ought  to  be  prepared 
for  it ;  but  she's  the  oldest  of  the  five,  you 
know,  and  she  has  been  like  my  right  hand 
ever  since  her  father  died.  There'll  not  be  a 
minute  while  she  is  gone,  that  I  shall  not  miss 
her  and  wish  her  back.  She's  the  life  and  sun- 
shine of  the  whole  home." 

Then  Joyce  could  see  the  little  brown  house 
turned  all  topsy-turvy  in  the  whirl  of  prepa- 
ration that  followed,  and  the  next  thing,  she 
was  standing  on  the  platform  at  the  station, 
with  her  new  steamer  trunk  beside  her.  Half 
the  town  was  there  to  bid  her  good-by.  In 
the  excitement  of  finding  herself  a  person  of 
such  importance  she  forgot  how  much  she  was 
leaving  behind  her,  until  looking  up,  she  saw  a 
tender,  wistful  smile  on  her  mother's  face,  sad- 
der than  any  tears. 

Luckily  the  locomotive  whistled  just  then, 


WHERE  JOYCE   LIVED. 


IN    THE    PEAR-TREE.  19 

and  the  novelty  of  getting  aboard  a  train  for 
the  first  time,  helped  her  to  be  brave  at  the 
parting.  She  stood  on  the  rear  platform  of 
the  last  car,  waving  her  handkerchief  to  the 
group  at  the  station  as  long  as  it  was  in  sight, 
so  that  the  last  glimpse  her  mother  should 
have  of  her,  was  with  her  bright  little  face  all 
ashine. 

All  these  pictures  passed  so  rapidly  through 
Joyce's  mind,  that  she  had  retraced  the  experi- 
ences of  the  last  three  months  in  as  many  min- 
utes. Then,  somehow,  she  felt  better.  The 
tears  had  washed  away  the  ache  in  her  throat. 
She  wiped  her  eyes  and  climbed  liked  a  squirrel 
to  the  highest  limb  that  could  bear  her  weight. 

This  was  not  the  first  time  that  the  old  pear- 
tree  had  been  shaken  by  Joyce's  grief,  and  it 
knew  that  her  spells  of  homesickness  always 
ended  in  this  way.  There  she  sat,  swinging  her 
plump  legs  back  and  forth,  her  long  light  hair 
blowing  over  the  shoulders  of  her  blue  jacket, 
and  her  saucy  little  mouth  puckered  into  a  soft 
whistle.  She  could  see  over  the  high  wall  now. 
The  sun  was  going  down  behind  the  tall  Lom- 
bardy  poplars  that  lined  the  road,  and  in  a  dis- 
tant field  two  peasants  still  at  work  reminded 


2O        THF    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

her  of  the  picture  of  "The  Angelas."  They 
seemed  like  acquaintances  on  account  of  the  re- 
semblance, for  there  was  a  copy  of  the  picture 
in  her  little  bedroom  at  home. 

All  around  her  stretched  quiet  fields,  sloping 
down  to  the  ancient  village  of  St.  Symphorien 
and  the  river  Loire.  Just  across  the  river,  so 
near  that  she  could  hear  the  ringing  of  the 
cathedral  bell,  lay  the  famous  old  town  of  Tours. 
There  was  something  in  these  country  sights 
and  sounds  that  soothed  her  with  their  homely 
cheerfulness.  The  crowing  of  a  rooster  and  the 
barking  of  a  dog  fell  on  her  ear  like  familiar 
music. 

"  It's  a  comfort  to  hear  something  speak 
English,"  she  sighed,  "even  if  it's  nothing  but 
a  chicken.  I  do  wish  that  Cousin  Kate 
wouldn't  be  so  particular  about  my  using 
French  all  day  long.  The  one  little  half- 
hour  at  bedtime  when  she  allows  me  to  speak 
English  isn't  a  drop  in  the  bucket.  It's  a 
mercy  that  I  had  studied  French  some  before 
I  came,  or  I  would  have  a  lonesome  time.  I 
wouldn't  be  able  to  ever  talk  at  all." 

It  was  getting  cold  up  in  the  pear-tree. 
Joyce  shivered  and  stepped  down  to  the  limb 


IN    THE    PEAR  -  TREE. 


21 


below,  but  paused  in  her  descent  to  watch  a 
peddler  going  down  the  road  with  a  pack  on 
his  back. 

"  Oh,  he  is  stopping 
at  the  gate  with  the 
big  scissors!"  she 
cried,  so  interested 
that  she  spoke  aloud. 
"  I  must  wait  to  see 
if  it  opens." 

There  was  some- 
thing mysterious 
about  that  gate  across 
the  road.  Like  Mon- 
sieur Greville's,  it 
was  plain  and  solid, 
reaching  as  high  as 
the  wall.  Only  the 
lime-trees  and  the 
second  story  win- 
dows of  the  house  could  be  seen  above  it. 
On  the  top  it  bore  an  iron  medallion,  on  which 
was  fastened  a  huge  pair  of  scissors.  There 
was  a  smaller  pair  on  each  gable  of  the  house, 
also. 

During   the   three    months  that   Joyce   had 


22         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

been  in  Monsieur  Greville's  home,  she  had 
watched  every  day  to  see  it  open ;  but  if  any 
one  ever  entered  or  left  the  place,  it  was  cer- 
tainly by  some  other  way  than  this  queer  gate. 

What  lay  beyond  it,  no  one  could  tell.  She 
had  questioned  Gabriel  the  coachman,  and 
Berthe  the  maid,  in  vain.  Madame  Greville 
said  that  she  remembered  having  heard,  when 
a  child,  that  the  man  who  built  it  was  named 
Ciseaux,  and  that  was  why  the  symbol  of  this 
name  was  hung  over  the  gate  and  on  the  gables. 
He  had  been  regarded  as  half  crazy  by  his  neigh- 
bors. The  place  was  still  owned  by  a  descend- 
ant of  his,  who  had  gone  to  Algiers,  and  left  it 
in  charge  of  two  servants. 

The  peddler  rang  the  bell  of  the  gate  several 
times,  but  failing  to  arouse  any  one,  shouldered 
his  pack  and  went  off  grumbling.  Then  Joyce 
climbed  down  and  walked  slowly  up  the  grav- 
elled path  to  the  house.  Cousin  Kate  had 
just  come  back  from  Tours  in  the  pony  cart, 
and  was  waiting  in  the  door  to  see  if  Gabriel 
had  all  the  bundles  that  she  had  brought  out 
with  her. 

Joyce  followed  her  admiringly  into  the  house. 
She  wished  that  she  could  grow  up  to  look 


IN    THE    PEAR-TREE.  23 

exactly  like  Cousin  Kate,  and  wondered  if  she 
would  ever  wear  such  stylish  silk-lined  skirts, 
and  catch  them  up  in  such  an  airy,  graceful 
way  when  she  ran  up-stairs ;  and  if  she  would 
ever  have  a  Paris  hat  with  long  black  feathers, 
and  always  wear  a  bunch  of  sweet  violets  on 
her  coat. 

She  looked  at  herself  in  Cousin  Kate's  mir- 
ror as  she  passed  it,  and  sighed.  "  Well,  I  am 
better-looking  than  when  I  left  home,"  she 
thought.  "That's  one  comfort.  My  face  isn't 
freckled  now,  and  my  hair  is  more  becoming 
this  way  than  in  tight  little  pigtails,  the  way 
I  used  to  wear  it." 

Cousin  Kate,  coming  up  behind  her,  looked 
over  her  head  and  smiled  at  the  attractive  re- 
flection of  Joyce's  rosy  cheeks  and  straightfor- 
ward gray  eyes.  Then  she  stopped  suddenly 
and  put  her  arms  around  her,  saying,  "  What's 
the  matter,  dear  ?  You  have  been  crying." 

"Nothing,"  answered  Joyce,  but  there  was 
a  quaver  in  her  voice,  and  she  turned  her  head 
aside.  Cousin  Kate  put  her  hand  under  the 
resolute  little  chin,  and  tilted  it  until  she  could 
look  into  the  eyes  that  dropped  under  her  gaze. 
"  You  have  been  crying,"  she  said  again,  this 


24        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

time  in  English,  "  crying  because  you  are  home- 
sick. I  wonder  if  it  would  not  be  a  good  occu- 
pation for  you  to  open  all  the  bundles  that  I 
got  this  afternoon.  There  is  a  saucepan  in  one, 
and  a  big  spoon  in  the  other,  and  all  sorts  of 
good  things  in  the  others,  so  that  we  can  make 
some  molasses  candy  here  in  my  room,  over  the 
open  fire.  While  it  cooks  you  can  curl  up  in 
the  big  armchair  and  listen  to  a  fairy  tale  in 
the  firelight.  Would  you  like  that,  little  one  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes  ! "  cried  Joyce,  ecstatically.  "That's 
what  they  are  doing  at  home  this  minute,  I  am 
sure.  We  always  make  candy  every  afternoon 
in  the  winter  time." 

Presently  the  saucepan  was  sitting  on  the 
coals,  and  Joyce's  little  pug  nose  was  raptur- 
ously sniffing  the  odor  of  bubbling  molasses. 
"  I  know  what  I'd  like  the  story  to  be  about," 
she  said,  as  she  stirred  the  delicious  mixture 
with  the  new  spoon.  "  Make  up  something 
about  the  big  gate  across  the  road,  with  the 
scissors  on  it." 

Cousin  Kate  crossed  the  room,  and  sat  down 
by  the  window,  where  she  could  look  out  and 
see  the  top  of  it. 

"  Let  me  think  for  a  few  minutes,"  she  said 


IN    THE    PEAR-TREE.  25 

"  I  have  been  very  much  interested  in  that  old 
gate  myself." 

She  thought  so  long  that  the  candy  was  done 
before  she  was  ready  to  tell  the  story ;  but 
while  it  cooled  in  plates  outside  on  the  win- 
clow-sill,  she  drew  Joyce  to  a  seat  beside 
her  in  the  chimney-corner.  With  her  feet  on 
the  fender,  and  the  child's  head  on  her  shoulder, 
she  began  this  story,  and  the  firelight  dancing 
on  the  walls,  showed  a  smile  on  Joyce's  con- 
tented little  face. 


CHAPTER   II. 

A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE. 

ONCE  upon  a  time,  on  a  far  island  of  the  sea, 
there  lived  a  King  with  seven  sons.  The  three 
eldest  were  tall  and  dark,  with  eyes  like  eagles, 
and  hair  like  a  crow's  wing  for  blackness,  and 
no  princes  in  all  the  land  were  so  strong  and 
fearless  as  they.  The  three  youngest  sons 
were  tall  and  fair,  with  eyes  as  blue  as  corn- 
flowers, and  locks  like  the  summer  sun  for 
brightness,  and  no  princes  in  all  the  land  were 
so  brave  and  beautiful  as  they. 

But  the  middle  son  was  little  and  lorn ;  he 
was  neither  dark  nor  fair ;  he  was  neither  hand- 
some nor  strong.  So  when  the  King  saw  that 
he  never  won  in  the  tournaments  nor  led  in 
the  boar  hunts,  nor  sang  to  his  lute  among 
the  ladies  of  the  court,  he  drew  his  royal 
robes  around  him,  and  henceforth  frowned  on 
Ethelried. 

* 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE. 


To  each  of  his  other  sons  he  gave  a  portion 
of  his  kingdom,  armor  and  plumes,  a  prancing 
charger,  and  a  trusty  sword  ;  but  to  Ethelried  he 
gave  nothing.  When 
the  poor  Prince  saw 
his  brothers  riding 
out  into  the  world  to 
win  their  fortunes,  he 
fain  would  have  fol- 
lowed. Throwing 
himself  on  his 
knees  before  the 
King,  he  cried,  "  Oh, 
royal  Sire,  bestow 
upon  me  also  a  sword 
and  a  steed,  that  I 
may  up  and  away  to 
follow  my  brethren." 

But  the  King 
laughed  him  to  scorn. 
"  Thou  a  sword  !  "  he 
quoth.  "Thou  who  hast  never  done  a  deed  of 
valor  in  all  thy  life !  In  sooth  thou  shalt  have 
one,  but  it  shall  be  one  befitting  thy  maiden 
size  and  courage,  if  so  small  a  weapon  can  be 
found  in  all  my  kingdom  !  " 


28         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Now  just  at  that  moment  it  happened  that 
the  Court  Tailor  came  into  the  room  to  measure 
the  King  for  a  new  mantle  of  ermine.  Forth- 
with the  grinning  Jester  began  shrieking  with 
laughter,  so  that  the  bells  upon  his  motley  cap 
were  all  set  a-j angling. 

"  What  now,  Fool  ?  "  demanded  the  King. 

"  I  did  but  laugh  to  think  the  sword  of  Ethel- 
ried  had  been  so  quickly  found,"  responded  the 
Jester,  and  he  pointed  to  the  scissors  hanging 
from  the  Tailor's  girdle. 

"By  my  troth,"  exclaimed  the  King,  "it 
shall  be  even  as  thou  sayest ! "  and  he  com- 
manded that  the  scissors  be  taken  from  the 
Tailor,  and  buckled  to  the  belt  of  Ethelried. 

"  Not  until  thou  hast  proved  thyself  a  prince 
with  these,  shalt  thou  come  into  thy  kingdom," 
he  swore  with  a  mighty  oath.  "  Until  that  far 
day,  now  get  thee  gone  !  " 

So  Ethelried  left  the  palace,  and  wandered 
away  over  mountain  and  moor  with  a  heavy 
heart.  No  one  knew  that  he  was  a  prince; 
no  fireside  offered  him  welcome;  no  lips  gave 
him  a  friendly  greeting.  The  scissors  hung 
useless  and  rusting  by  his  side. 

One  night  as  he  lay  in  a  deep  forest,  too 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE.  2^ 

unhappy  to  sleep,  he  heard  a  noise  near  at 
hand  in  the  bushes.  By  the  light  of  the 
moon  he  saw  that  a  ferocious  wild  beast  had 
been  caught  in  a  hunter's  snare,  and  was 
struggling  to  free  itself  from  the  heavy  net. 
His  first  thought  was  to  slay  the  animal,  for 
he  had  had  no  meat  for  many  days.  Then  he 
bethought  himself  that  he  had  no  weapon  large 
enough. 

While  he  stood  gazing  at  the  struggling 
beast,  it  turned  to  him  with  such  a  beseeching 
look  in  its  wild  eyes,  that  he  was  moved  to  pity. 

"Thou  shalt  have  thy  liberty,"  he  cried, 
"even  though  thou  shouldst  rend  me  in 
pieces  the  moment  thou  art  free.  Better 
dead  than  this  craven  life  to  which  my  father 
hath  doomed  me!" 

So  he  set  to  work  with  the  little  scissors  to 
cut  the  great  ropes  of  the  net  in  twain.  At 
first  each  strand  seemed  as  hard  as  steel,  and 
the  blades  of  the  scissors  were  so  rusty  and 
dull  that  he  could  scarcely  move  them.  Great 
beads  of  sweat  stood  out  on  his  brow  as  he 
bent  himself  to  the  task. 

Presently,  as  he  worked,  the  blades  began  to 
grow  sharper  and  sharper,  and  brighter  and 


3O        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

brighter,  and  longer  and  longer.  By  the  time 
that  the  last  rope  was  cut  the  scissors  were  as 
sharp  as  a  broadsword,  and  half  as  long  as  his 
body. 

At  last  he  raised  the  net  to  let  the  beast  go 
free.  Then  he  sank  on  his  knees  in  astonish^ 
ment.  It  had  suddenly  disappeared,  and  in  its 
place  stood  a  beautiful  Fairy  with  filmy  wings, 
which  shone  like  rainbows  in  the  moonlight. 

"  Prince  Ethelried,"  she  said  in  a  voice  that 
was  like  a  crystal  bell's  for  sweetness,  "dost 
thou  not  know  that  thou  art  in  the  domain  of  a 
frightful  Ogre  ?  It  was  he  who  changed  me 
into  the  form  of  a  wild  beast,  and  set  the  snare 
to  capture  me.  But  for  thy  fearlessness  and 
faithful  perseverance  in  the  task  which  thou 
didst  in  pity  undertake,  I  must  have  perished 
at  dawn." 

At  this  moment  there  was  a  distant  rum- 
bling as  of  thunder.  "Tis  the  Ogre!"  cried 
the  Fairy.  "We  must  hasten."  Seizing  the 
scissors  that  lay  on  the  ground  where  Ethelried 
had  dropped  them,  she  opened  and  shut  them 
several  times,  exclaiming : 

"  Scissors,  grow  a  giant's  height 
And  save  us  from  the  Ogre's  might ! " 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE.  3 1 

Immediately  they  grew  to  an  enormous  size, 
and,  with  blades  extended,  shot  through  the 
tangled  thicket  ahead  of  them,  cutting  down 
everything  that  stood  in  their  way,  —  bushes, 
stumps,  trees,  vines  ;  nothing  could  stand  before 
the  fierce  onslaught  of  those  mighty  blades. 

The  Fairy  darted  down  the  path  thus  opened 
up,  and  Ethelried  followed  as  fast  as  he  could, 
for  the  horrible  roaring  was  rapidly  coming 
nearer.  At  last  they  reached  a  wide  chasm 
that  bounded  the  Ogre's  domain.  Once 
across  that,  they  would  be  out  of  his  power, 
but  it  seemed  impossible  to  cross.  Again  the 
Fairy  touched  the  scissors,  saying : 

"  Giant  scissors,  bridge  the  path, 
And  save  us  from  the  Ogre's  wrath." 

Again  the  scissors  grew  longer  and  longer, 
until  they  lay  across  the  chasm  like  a  shining 
bridge.  Ethelried  hurried  across  after  the 
Fairy,  trembling  and  dizzy,  for  the  Ogre  was 
now  almost  upon  them.  As  soon  as  they  were 
safe  on  the  other  side,  the  Fairy  blew  upon  the 
scissors,  and,  presto,  they  became  shorter  and 
shorter  until  they  were  only  the  length  of  an 
ordinary  sword. 


32         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

"Here,"  she  said,  giving  them  into  his  hands; 
"  because  thou  wast  persevering  and  fearless  in 
setting  me  free,  these  shall  win  for  thee  thy 
heart's  desire.  But  remember  that  thou  canst 
not  keep  them  sharp  and  shining,  unless  they 
are  used  at  least  once  each  day  in  some  unself- 
ish service." 

Before  he  could  thank  her  she  had  vanished, 
and  he  was  left  in  the  forest  alone.  He  could 
see  the  Ogre  standing  powerless  to  hurt  him, 
on  the  other  side  of  the  chasm,  and  gnashing 
his  teeth,  each  one  of  which  was  as  big  as  a 
millstone. 

The  sight  was  so  terrible,  that  he  turned  on 
his  heel,  and  fled  away  as  fast  as  his  feet  could 
carry  him.  By  the  time  he  reached  the  edge 
of  the  forest  he  was  very  tired,  and  ready  to 
faint  from  hunger.  His  heart's  greatest  desire 
being  for  food,  he  wondered  if  the  scissors 
could  obtain  it  for  him  as  the  Fairy  had 
promised.  He  had  spent  his  last  coin  and 
knew  not  where  to  go  for  another. 

Just  then  he  spied  a  tree,  hanging  full  of 
great,  yellow  apples.  By  standing  on  tiptoe 
he  could  barely  reach  the  lowest  one  with  his 
scissors.  He  cut  off  an  apple,  and  was  about 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE.  33 

to  take  a  bite,  when  an  old  Witch  sprang  out 
of  a  hollow  tree  across  the  road. 

"  So  you  are  the  thief  who  has  been  steal- 
ing my  gold  apples  all  this  last  fortnight !  "  she 
exclaimed.  "  Well,  you  shall  never  steal  again, 
that  I  promise  you.  Ho,  Frog-eye  Fearsome, 
seize  on  him  and  drag  him  into  your  darkest 
dungeon  !  " 

At  that,  a  hideous-looking  fellow,  with  eyes 
like  a  frog's,  green  hair,  and  horrid  clammy 
webbed  fingers,  clutched  him  before  he  could 
turn  to  defend  himself.  He  was  thrust  into 
the  dungeon  and  left  there  all  day. 

At  sunset,  Frog-eye  Fearsome  opened  the 
door  to  slide  in  a  crust  and  a  cup  of  water, 
saying  in  a  croaking  voice,  "  You  shall  be 
hanged  in  the  morning,  hanged  by  the  neck 
until  you  are  quite  dead."  Then  he  stopped 
to  run  his  webbed  fingers  through  his  damp 
green  hair,  and  grin  at  the  poor  captive  Prince, 
as  if  he  enjoyed  his  suffering.  But  the  next 
morning  no  one  came  to  take  him  to  the 
gallows,  and  he  sat  all  day  in  total  darkness. 
At  sunset  Frog-eye  Fearsome  opened  the  door 
again  to  thrust  in  another  crust  and  some  water 
and  say,  "  In  the  morning  you  shall  be  drowned ; 


34         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

drowned  in  the  Witch's  mill-pond  with  a  great 
stone  tied  to  your  heels." 

Again  the  croaking  creature  stood  and 
gloated  over  his  victim,  then  left  him  to  the 
silence  of  another  long  day  in  the  dungeon. 
The  third  day  he  opened  the  door  and  hopped 
in,  rubbing  his  webbed  hands  together  with 
fiendish  pleasure,  saying,  "  You  are  to  have 
no  food  and  drink  to-night,  for  the  Witch  has 
thought  of  a  far  more  horrible  punishment  for 
you.  In  the  morning  I  shall  surely  come 
again,  and  then  —  beware!" 

Now  as  he  stopped  to  grin  once  more  at  the 
poor  Prince,  a  Fly  darted  in,  and,  blinded  by  the 
darkness  of  the  dungeon,  flew  straight  into  a 
spider's  web,  above  the  head  of  Ethelried. 

" Poor  creature  !"  thought  Ethelried.  "Thou 
shalt  not  be  left  a  prisoner  in  this  dismal  spot 
while  I  have  the  power  to  help  thee."  He  lifted 
the  scissors  and  with  one  stroke  destroyed  the 
web,  and  gave  the  Fly  its  freedom. 

As  soon  as  the  dungeon  had  ceased  to  echo 
with  the  noise  that  Frog-eye  Fearsome  made  in 
banging  shut  the  heavy  door,  Ethelried  heard  a 
low  buzzing  near  his  ear.  It  was  the  Fly,  which 
had  alighted  on  his  shoulder. 


A    NEW    FAIRY   TALE.  35 

"  Let  an  insect  in  its  gratitude  teach  you 
this,"  buzzed  the  Fly.  "  To-morrow,  if  you 
remain  here,  you  must  certainly  meet  your 
doom,  for  the  Witch  never  keeps  a  prisoner 
past  the  third  night.  But  escape  is  pos- 
sible. Your  prison  door  is  of  iron,  but  the 
shutter  which  bars  the  window  is  only  of 
wood.  Cut  your  way  out  at  midnight,  and  I 
will  have  a  friend  in  waiting  to  guide  you  to  a 
place  of  safety.  A  faint  glimmer  of  light  on 
the  opposite  wall  shows  me  the  keyhole.  I 
shall  make  my  escape  thereat  and  go  to  repay 
thy  unselfish  service  to  me.  But  know  that 
the  scissors  move  only  when  bidden  in  rhyme. 
Farewell." 

The  Prince  spent  all  the  following  time  until 
midnight,  trying  to  think  of  a  suitable  verse  to 
say  to  the  scissors.  The  art  of  rhyming  had 
been  neglected  in  his  early  education,  and  it 
was  not  until  the  first  cock-crowing  began  that 
he  succeeded  in  making  this  one : 

"  Giant  scissors,  serve  me  well, 
And  save  me  from  the  Witch's  spell ! " 

As  he  uttered  the  words  the  scissors  leaped 
out  of  his  hand,  and  began  to  cut  through  the 


36        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

wooden  shutters  as  easily  as  through  a  cheese 
In  a  very  short  time  the  Prince  had  crawled 
through  the  opening.  There  he  stood,  outside 
the  dungeon,  but  it  was  a  dark  night  and  he 
knew  not  which  way  to  turn. 

He  could  hear  Frog-eye  Fearsome  snoring 
like  a  tempest  up  in  the  watch-tower,  and  the 
old  Witch  was  talking  in  her  sleep  in  seven 
languages.  While  he  stood  looking  around 
him  in  bewilderment,  a  Firefly  alighted  on 
his  arm.  Flashing  its  little  lantern  in  the 
Prince's  face,  it  cried,  "  This  way !  My  friend, 
the  Fly,  sent  me  to  guide  you  to  a  place  of 
safety.  Follow  me  and  trust  entirely  to  my 
guidance." 

The  Prince  flung  his  mantle  over  his  shoul- 
der, and  followed  on  with  all  possible  speed. 
They  stopped  first  in  the  Witch's  orchard,  and 
the  Firefly  held  its  lantern  up  while  the  Prince 
filled  his  pockets  with  the  fruit.  The  apples 
were  gold  with  emerald  leaves,  and  the  cherries 
were  rubies,  and  the  grapes  were  great  bunches 
of  amethyst.  When  the  Prince  had  filled  his 
pockets  he  had  enough  wealth  to  provide  for  all 
his  wants  for  at  least  a  twelvemonth. 

The  Firefly  led  him  on  until  they  came  to  a 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE.  37 

town  where  was  a  fine  inn.  There  he  left 
him,  and  flew  off  to  report  the  Prince's  safety 
to  the  Fly  and  receive  the  promised  reward. 

Here  Ethelried  stayed  for  many  weeks,  living 
like  a  king  on  the  money  that  the  fruit  jewels 
brought  him.  All  this  time  the  scissors  were 
becoming  little  and  rusty,  because  he  never 
once  used  them,  as  the  Fairy  bade  him,  in 
unselfish  service  for  others.  But  one  day  he 
bethought  himself  of  her  command,  and  started 
out  to  seek  some  opportunity  to  help  some- 
body. 

Soon  he  came  to  a  tiny  hut  where  a  sick  man 
lay  moaning,  while  his  wife  and  children  wept 
beside  him.  "  What  is  to  become  of  me  ? " 
cried  the  poor  peasant.  "  My  grain  must  fall 
and  rot  in  the  field  from  overripeness  because 
I  have  not  the  strength  to  rise  and  harvest  it ; 
then  indeed  must  we  all  starve." 

Ethelried  heard  him,  and  that  night,  when  the 
moon  rose,  he  stole  into  the  field  to  cut  it  down 
with  the  giant  scissors.  They  were  so  rusty 
from  long  idleness  that  he  could  scarcely  move 
them.  He  tried  to  think  of  some  rhyme  with 
which  to  command  them  ;  but  it  had  been  so 
long  since  he  had  done  any  thinking,  except  for 


38        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

his  own  selfish  pleasure,  that  his  brain  refused 
to  work. 

However,  he  toiled  on  all  night,  slowly  cutting 
down  the  grain  stalk  by  stalk.  Towards  morn- 
ing the  scissors  became  brighter  and  sharper, 
until  they  finally  began  to  open  and  shut  of 
their  own  accord.  The  whole  field  was  cut  by 
sunrise.  Now  the  peasant's  wife  had  risen  very 
early  to  go  down  to  the  spring  and  dip  up  some 
cool  water  for  her  husband  to  drink.  She  came 
upon  Ethelried  as  he  was  cutting  the  last  row  of 
the  grain,  and  fell  on  her  knees  to  thank  him. 
From  that  day  the  peasant  and  all  his  family 
were  firm  friends  of  Ethelried's,  and  would  have 
gone  through  fire  and  water  to  serve  him. 

After  that  he  had  many  adventures,  and  he 
was  very  busy,  for  he  never  again  forgot  what 
the  Fairy  had  said,  that  only  unselfish  service 
each  day  could  keep  the  scissors  sharp  and 
shining.  When  the  shepherd  lost  a  little  lamb 
one  day  on  the  mountain,  it  was  Ethelried  who 
found  it  caught  by  the  fleece  in  a  tangle  of 
cruel  thorns.  When  he  had  cut  it  loose  and 
carried  it  home,  the  shepherd  also  became  his 
firm  friend,  and  would  have  gone  through  fire 
and  water  to  serve  him. 


A    NEW    FAIRY    TALE. 


39 


The  grandame  whom  he  supplied  with  fagots, 
the  merchant  whom  he  rescued  from  robbers, 
the  King's  councillor  to  whom  he  gave  aid, 
all  became  his  friends.  Up  and  down  the 
land,  to  beggar  or  lord,  homeless  wanderer  or 
high-born  dame,  he  gladly 
gave  unselfish  service  all 
unsought,  and  such  as  he 
helped  straightway  became 
his  friends. 

Day  by  day  the  scissors 
grew  sharper  and  sharper 
and  ever  more  quick  to  spring 
forward  at  his  bidding. 

One  day  a  herald  dashed 
down  the  highway,  shouting 
through  his  silver  trumpet 
that  a  beautiful  Princess  had 
been  carried  away  by  the 
Ogre.  She  was  the  only 
child  of  the  King  of  this  country,  and  the 
knights  and  nobles  of  all  other  realms  and  all 
the  royal  potentates  were  prayed  to  come  to 
her  rescue.  To  him  who  could  bring  her  back 
to  her  father's  castle  should  be  given  the  throne 
and  kingdom,  as  well  as  the  Princess  herself. 


40        THE    GATE    OF   THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

So  from  far  and  near,  indeed  from  almost 
every  country  under  the  sun,  came  knights 
and  princes  to  fight  the  Ogre.  One  by  one 
their  brave  heads  were  cut  off  and  stuck  on 
poles  along  the  moat  that  surrounded  the 
castle. 

Still  the  beautiful  Princess  languished  in  her 
prison.  Every  night  at  sunset  she  was  taken  up 
to  the  roof  for  a  glimpse  of  the  sky,  and  told  to 
bid  good-by  to  the  sun,  for  the  next  morning 
would  surely  be  her  last.  Then  she  would 
wring  her  lily-white  hands  and  wave  a  sad 
farewell  to  her  home,  lying  far  to  the  west- 
ward. When  the  knights  saw  this  they  would 
rush  down  to  the  chasm  and  sound  a  challenge 
to  the  Ogre. 

They  were  brave  men,  and  they  would  not 
have  feared  to  meet  the  fiercest  wild  beasts,  but 
many  shrunk  back  when  the  Ogre  came  rush- 
ing out.  They  dared  not  meet  in  single  combat, 
this  monster  with  the  gnashing  teeth,  each  one 
of  which  was  as  big  as  a  millstone. 

Among  those  who  drew  back  were  Ethel- 
ried's  brothers  (the  three  that  were  dark  and 
the  three  that  were  fair).  They  would  not 
acknowledge  their  fear.  They  said,  "We  are 


THE   PRINCESS. 


A   NEW    FAIRY    TALE.  43 

only  waiting  to  lay  some  wily  plan  to  capture 
the  Ogre." 

After  several  days  Ethelried  reached  the 
place  on  foot.  "  See  him,"  laughed  one  of  the 
brothers  that  was  dark  to  one  that  was  fair. 
"  He  comes  afoot ;  no  prancing  steed,  no  wav- 
ing plumes,  no  trusty  sword ;  little  and  lorn,  he 
is  not  fit  to  be  called  a  brother  to  princes." 

But  Ethelried  heeded  not  their  taunts.  He 
dashed  across  the  drawbridge,  and,  opening  his 
scissors,  cried: 

"  Giant  scissors,  rise  in  power ! 
Grant  me  my  heart's  desire  this  hour ! " 

The  crowds  on  the  other  side  held  their 
breath  as  the  Ogre  rushed  out,  brandishing  a 
club  as  big  ^s  a  church  steeple.  Then  Whack  ! 
Bang !  The  blows  of  the  scissors,  warding  off 
the  blows  of  the  mighty  club,  could  be  heard 
for  miles  around. 

At  last  Ethelried  became  so  exhausted  that 
he  could  scarcely  raise  his  hand,  and  it  was 
plain  to  be  seen  that  the  scissors  could  not  do 
battle  much  longer.  By  this  time  a  great  many 
people,  attracted  by  the  terrific  noise,  had  come 
running  up  to  the  moat.  The  news  had  spread 


44        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

far  and  wide  that  Ethelried  was  in  danger  ;  so 
every  one  whom  he  had  ever  served  dropped 
whatever  he  was  doing,  and  ran  to  the  scene  of 
the  battle.  The  peasant  was  there,  and  the 
shepherd,  and  the  lords  and  beggars  and  high- 
born dames,  all  those  whom  Ethelried  had  ever 
befriended. 

As  they  saw  that  the  poor  Prince  was  about 
to  be  vanquished,  they  all  began  a  great  lamen- 
tation, and  cried  out  bitterly. 

"He  saved  my  harvest,"  cried  one.  "He 
found  my  lamb,"  cried  another.  "  He  showed 
me  a  greater  kindness  still,"  shouted  a  third. 
And  so  they  went  on,  each  telling  of  some 
unselfish  service  that  the  Prince  had  rendered 
him.  Their  voices  all  joined  at  last  into  such  a 
roar  of  gratitude  that  the  scissors  were  given 
fresh  strength  on  account  of  it.  They  grew 
longer  and  longer,  and  stronger  and  stronger, 
until  with  one  great  swoop  they  sprang  forward 
and  cut  the  ugly  old  Ogre's  head  from  his 
shoulders. 

Every  cap  was  thrown  up,  and  such  cheering 
rent  the  air  as  has  never  been  heard  since. 
They  did  not  know  his  name,  they  did  not 
know  that  h«  was  Prince  Ethelried,  but  they 


A   NEW    FAIRY   TALE.  45 

knew  by  his  valor  that  there  was  royal  blood 
in  his  veins.  So  they  all  cried  out  long  and 
loud  :  "  Long  live  the  Prince  !  Prince  Ciseaux  !  " 

Then  the  King  stepped  down  from  his  throne 
and  took  off  his  crown  to  give  to  the  conqueror, 
but  Ethelried  put  it  aside. 

"Nay,"  he  said.  "The  only  kingdom  that  I 
crave  is  the  kingdom  of  a  loving  heart  and  a 
happy  fireside.  Keep  all  but  the  Princess." 

So  the  Ogre  was  killed,  and  the  Prince  came 
into  his  kingdom  that  was  his  heart's  desire. 
He  married  the  Princess,  and  there  was  feasting 
and  merrymaking  for  seventy  days  and  seventy 
nights,  and  they  all  lived  happily  ever  after. 

When  the  feasting  was  over,  and  the  guests 
had  all  gone  to  their  homes,  the  Prince  pulled 
down  the  house  of  the  Ogre  and  built  a  new 
one.  On  every  gable  he  fastened  a  pair  of 
shining  scissors  to  remind  himself  that  only 
through  unselfish  service  to  others  comes  the 
happiness  that  is  highest  and  best. 

Over  the  great  entrance  gate  he  hung  the 
ones  that  had  served  him  so  valiantly,  saying, 
"Only  those  who  belong  to  the  kingdom  of 
loving  hearts  and  happy  homes  can  ever  enter 
here." 


46        THE    GATE    OP    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

One  day  the  old  King,  with  the  brothers  of 
Ethelried  (the  three  that  were  dark  and  the 
three  that  were  fair),  came  riding  up  to  the 
portal.  They  thought  to  share  in  Ethelried's 
fame  and  splendor.  But  the  scissors  leaped 
from  their  place  and  snapped  so  angrily  in  their 
faces  that  they  turned  their  horses  and  fled. 

Then  the  scissors  sprang  back  to  their  place 
again  to  guard  the  portal  of  Ethelried,  and,  to 
this  day,  only  those  who  belong  to  the  kingdom 
of  loving  hearts  may  enter  the  Gate  of  the 
Giant  Scissors 


CHAPTER  III. 

BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE. 

THAT  was  the  tale  of  the  giant  scissors  as  it 
was  told  to  Joyce  in  the  pleasant  fire-lighted 
room ;  but  behind  the  great  gates  the  true 
story  went  on  in  a  far  different  way. 

Back  of  the  Ciseaux  house  was  a  dreary  field, 
growing  drearier  and  browner  every  moment  as 
the  twilight  deepened ;  and  across  its  rough 
furrows  a  tired  boy  was  stumbling  wearily 
homeward.  He  was  not  more  than  nine  years 
old,  but  the  careworn  expression  of  his  thin 
white  face  might  have  belonged  to  a  little  old 
man  of  ninety.  He  was  driving  two  unruly 
goats  towards  the  house.  The  chase  they  led  him 
would  have  been  a  laughable  sight,  had  he  not 
looked  so  small  and  forlorn  plodding  along  in 
his  clumsy  wooden  shoes,  and  a  peasa1  t's  blouse 
of  blue  cotton,  several  sizes  too  large  for  his 
thin  little  body. 

47 


48         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

The  anxious  look  .in  his  eyes  changed  to  one 
of  fear  as  he  drew  nearer  the  house.  At  the 
sound  of  a  gruff  voice  bellowing  at  him  from 
the  end  of  the  lane,  he  winced  as  if  he  had 
been  struck. 

"  Ha,  there,  Jules  !  Thou  lazy  vagabond  ! 
Late  again !  Canst  thou  never  learn  that  I 
am  not  to  be  kept  waiting?" 

"  But,  Brossard,"  quavered  the  boy  in  his 
shrill,  anxious  voice,  "  it  was  not  my  fault, 
indeed  it  was  not.  The  goats  were  so  stub- 
born to-night.  They  broke  through  the  hedge, 
and  I  had  to  chase  them  over  three  fields." 

"  Have  done  with  thy  lying  excuses,"  was 
the  rough  answer.  "  Thou  shalt  have  no  sup- 
per to-night.  Maybe  an  empty  stomach  will 
teach  thee  when  my  commands  fail.  Hasten 
and  drive  the  goats  into  the  pen." 

There  was  a  scowl  on  Brossard's  burly  red 
face  that  made  Jules's  heart  bump  up  in  his 
throat.  Brossard  was  only  the  caretaker  of  the 
Ciseaux  place,  but  he  had  been  there  for  twenty 
years,  —  so  long  that  he  felt  himself  the  master. 
The  real  master  was  in  Algiers  nearly  all  the 
time.  During  his  absence  the  great  house  was 
closed,  excepting  the  kitchen  and  two  rooms 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.        49 

above  it.  Of  these  Brossard  had  one  and 
Henri  the  other.  Henri  was  the  cook  ;  a  slow, 
stupid  old  man,  not  to  be  jogged  out  of  either 
his  good-nature  or  his  slow  gait  by  anything 
that  Brossard  might  say. 

Henri  cooked  and  washed  and  mended,  and 
hoed  in  the  garden.  Brossard  worked  in  the 
fields  and  shaved  down  the  expenses  of  their 
living  closer  and  closer.  All  that  was  thus 
eaved  fell  to  his  share,  or  he  might  not  have 
Vvatched  the  expenses  so  carefully. 

Much  saving  had  made  him  miserly.  Old 
Therese,  the  woman  with  the  fish-cart,  used  to 
say  that  he  was  the  stingiest  man  in  all  Tour- 
raine.  She  ought  to  know,  for  she  had  sold 
him  a  fish  every  Friday  during  all  those  twenty 
years,  and  he  had  never  once  failed  to  quarrel 
about  the  price.  Five  years  had  gone  by  since 
the  master's  last  visit.  Brossard  and  Henri 
were  not  likely  to  forget  that  time,  for  they 
had  been  awakened  in  the  dead  of  night  by  a 
loud  knocking  at  the  side  gate.  When  they 
opened  it  the  sight  that  greeted  them  made 
them  rub  their  sleepy  eyes  to  be  sure  that  they 
saw  aright. 

There  stood  the  master,  old  Martin  Ciseaux. 


5O         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

His  hair  and  fiercely  bristling  mustache  had 
turned  entirely  white  since  they  had  ]ast  seen 
him.  In  his  arms  he  carried  a  child. 

Brossard  almost  dropped  his  candle  in  his 
first  surprise,  and  his  wonder  grew  until  he 
could  hardly  contain  it,  when  the  curly  head 
raised  itself  from  monsieur's  shoulder,  and  the 
sleepy  baby  voice  lisped  something  in  a  foreign 
tongue. 

"  By  all  the  saints  ! "  muttered  Brossard,  as 
he  stood  aside  for  his  master  to  pass. 

"  It's  my  brother  Jules's  grandson,"  was  the 
curt  explanation  that  monsieur  offered.  "Jules 
is  dead,  and  so  is  his  son  and  all  the  family,  — 
died  in  America.  This  is  his  son's  son,  Jules, 
the  last  of  the  name.  If  I  choose  to  take  him 
from  a  foreign  poorhouse  and  give  him  shelter, 
it's  nobody's  business,  Louis  Brossard,  but  my 
own." 

With  that  he  strode  on  up  the  stairs  to  his 
room,  the  boy  still  in  his  arms.  This  sudden 
coming  of  a  four-year-old  child  into  their  daily 
life  made  as  little  difference  to  Brossard  and 
Henri  as  the  presence  of  the  four-months-old 
puppy.  They  spread  a  cot  for  him  in  Henri's 
room  when  the  master  went  back  to  Algiers. 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.        5  I 

They  gave  him  something  to  eat  three  times  a 
day  when  they  stopped  for  their  own  meals, 
and  then  went  on  with  their  work  as  usual. 

It  made  no  difference  to  them  that  he  sobbed 
in  the  dark  for  his  mother  to  come  and  sing 
him  to  sleep,  —  the  happy  young  mother  who 
had  petted  and  humored  him  in  her  own  fond 
American  fashion.  They  could  not  under- 
stand his  speech  ;  more  than  that,  they  could 
not  understand  him.  Why  should  he  mope 
alone  in  the  garden  with  that  beseeching  look 
of  a  lost  dog  in  his  big,  mournful  eyes  ?  Why 
should  he  not  play  and  be  happy,  like  the  neigh- 
bor's children  or  the  kittens  or  any  other  young 
thing  that  had  life  and  sunshine  ? 

Brossard  snapped  his  fingers  at  him  some- 
times at  first,  as  he  would  have  done  to  a 
playful  animal ;  but  when  Jules  drew  back, 
frightened  by  his  foreign  speech  and  rough 
voice,  he  began  to  dislike  the  timid  child. 
After  awhile  he  never  noticed  him  except  to 
push  him  aside  or  to  find  fault. 

It  was  from  Henri  that  Jules  picked  up 
whatever  French  he  learned,  and  it  was  from 
Henri  also  that  he  had  received  the  one  awk- 
ward caress,  and  the  only  one,  that  his  desolate 


5 1         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

little  heart  had  known  in  all  the  five  loveless 
years  that  he  had  been  with  them. 

A  few  months  ago  Brossard  had  put  him 
out  in  the  field  to  keep  the  goats  from  straying 
away  from  their  pasture,  two  stubborn  crea- 
tures, whose  self-willed  wanderings  had  brought 
many  a  scolding  down  on  poor  Jules's  head. 
To-night  he  was  unusually  unfortunate,  for 
added  to  the  weary  chase  they  had  led  him  was 
this  stern  command  that  he  should  go  to  bed 
without  his  supper. 

He  was  about  to  pass  into  the  house,  shiver- 
ing  and  hungry,  when  Henri  put  his  head  out 
at  the  window.  "Brossard,"  he  called,  "there 
isn't  enough  bread  for  supper ;  there's  just  this 
dry  end  of  a  loaf.  You  should  have  bought  as 
I  told  you,  when  the  baker's  cart  stopped  here 
this  morning." 

Brossard  slowly  measured  the  bit  of  hard, 
black  bread  with  his  eye,  and,  seeing  that  there 
was  not  half  enough  to  satisfy  the  appetites  of 
two  hungry  men,  he  grudgingly  drew  a  franc 
from  his  pocket. 

"  Here,  Jules,"  he  called.  "  Go  down  to  the 
bakery,  and  see  to  it  that  thou  art  back  by 
the  time  that  I  have  milked  the  goats,  or  thou 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.        53 

shalt  go  to  bed  with  a  beating,  as  well  as 
supperless.  Stay !  "  he  added,  as  Jules  turned 
to  go.  "  I  have  a  mind  to  eat  white  bread  to- 
night instead  of  black.  It  will  cost  an  extra 
sou,  so  be  careful  to  count  the  change.  It  is 
only  once  or  so  in  a  twelvemonth,"  he  muttered 
to  himself  as  an  excuse  for  his  extravagance. 

It  was  half  a  mile  to  the  village,  but  down 
hill  all  the  way,  so  that  Jules  reached  the 
bakery  in  a  very  short  time. 

Several  customers  were  ahead  of  him,  how- 
ever, and  he  awaited  his  turn  nervously.  When 
he  left  the  shop  an  old  lamplighter  was  going 
down  the  street  with  torch  and  ladder,  leaving 
a  double  line  of  twinkling  lights  in  his  wake,  as 
he  disappeared  down  the  wide  "  Paris  road." 
Jules  watched  him  a  moment,  and  then  ran 
rapidly  on.  For  many  centuries  the  old  village 
of  St.  Symphorien  had  echoed  with  the  clatter 
of  wooden  shoes  on  its  ancient  cobblestones  ; 
but  never  had  foot-falls  in  its  narrow,  crooked 
streets  kept  time  to  the  beating  of  a  lonelier 
little  heart. 

The  officer  of  Customs,  at  his  window  beside 
the  gate  that  shuts  in  the  old  town  at  night, 
nodded  in  a  surly  way  as  the  boy  hurried 


54        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

past..  Once  outside  the  gate,  Jules  walked 
more  slowly,  for  the  road  began  to  wind  up-hill. 
Now  he  was  out  again  in  the  open  country, 
where  a  faint  light  lying  over  the  frosty  fields 
showed  that  the  moon  was  rising. 

Here  and  there  lamps  shone  from  the  win- 
dows of  houses  along  the  road ;  across  the 
field  came  the  bark  of  a  dog,  welcoming  his 
master ;  two  old  peasant  women  passed  him  in 
a  creaking  cart  on  their  glad  way  home. 

At  the  top  of  the  hill  Jules  stopped  to  take 
breath,  leaning  for  a  moment  against  the  stone 
wall.  He  was  faint  from  hunger,  for  he  had 
been  in  the  fields  since  early  morning,  with 
nothing  for  his  midday  lunch  but  a  handful 
of  boiled  chestnuts.  The  smell  of  the  fresh 
bread  tantalized  him  beyond  endurance.  Oh, 
to  be  able  to  take  a  mouthful, — just  one  little 
mouthful  of  that  brown,  sweet  crust ! 

He  put  his  face  down  close,  and  shut  his- 
eyes,  drawing  in  the  delicious  odor  with  long, 
deep  breaths.  What  bliss  it  would  be  to  have 
that  whole  loaf  for  his  own,  —  he,  little  Jules, 
who  was  to  have  no  supper  that  night !  He 
held  it  up  in  the  moonlight,  hungrily  looking 
at  it  on  every  side.  There  was  not  a  broken 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.         55 

place  to  be  found  anywhere  on  its  surface ;  not 
one  crack  in  all  that  hard,  brown  glaze  of  crust, 
from  which  he  might  pinch  the  tiniest  crumb. 

For  a  moment  a  mad  impulse  seized  him  to 
tear  it  in  pieces,  and  eat  every  scrap,  regardless 
of  the  reckoning  with  Brossard  afterwards.  But 
it  was  only  for  a  moment.  The  memory  of  his 
last  beating  stayed  his  hand.  Then,  fearing  to 
dally  with  temptation,  lest  it  should  master  him, 
he  thrust  the  bread  under  his  arm,  and  ran 
every  remaining  step  of  the  way  home. 

Brossard  took  the  loaf  from  him,  and  pointed 
with  it  to  the  stairway,  —  a  mute  command  for 
Jules  to  go  to  bed  at  once.  Tingling  with  a 
sense  of  injustice,  the  little  fellow  wanted  to 
shriek  out  in  all  his  hunger  and  misery,  defying 
this  monster  of  a  man  ;  but  a  struggling  spar- 
row might  as  well  have  tried  to  turn  on  the 
hawk  that  held  it.  He  clenched  his  hands  to 
keep  from  snatching  something  from  the  table, 
set  out  so  temptingly  in  the  kitchen,  but  he 
dared  not  linger  even  to  look  at  it.  With  a 
feeling  of  utter  helplessness  he  passed  it  in 
silence,  his  face  white  and  set. 

Dragging  his  tired  feet  slowly  up  the  stairs, 
he  went  over  to  the  casement  window,  and 


56         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 


swung  it  open  ;  then,  kneeling  down,  he  laid 
his  head  on  the  sill,  in  the  moonlight.  Was  it 
his  dream  that  came  back  to  him  then,  or  only 
a  memory  ?  He  could  never  be  sure,  for  if  it 
were  a  memory,  it  was  certainly  as  strange 
as  any  dream,  unlike 
anything  he  had  ever 
known  in  his  life  with 
Henri  and  Brossard. 
Night  after  night  he 
had  comforted  himself 
with  the  picture  that  it 
brought  before  him. 

He  could  see  a  little 
white  house  in  the 
middle  of  a  big  lawn. 
There  were  vines  on  the 
SillBSPlP^  porches,  and  it  must 
have  been  early  in  the 
evening,  for  the  fireflies 

were  beginning  to  twinkle  over  the  lawn.  And 
the  grass  had  just  been  cut,  for  the  air  was 
sweet  with  the  smell  of  it.  A  woman,  standing 
on  the  steps  under  the  vines,  was  calling  "Jules, 
Jules,  it  is  time  to  come  in,  little  son ! " 

But  Jules,  in  his  white  dress  and  shoulder. 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.         5/ 

knots  of  blue  ribbon,  was  toddling  across  the 
lawn  after  a  firefly. 

Then  she  began  to  call  him  another  way. 
Jules  had  a  vague  idea  that  it  was  a  part  of 
some  game  that  they  sometimes  played  together. 
It  sounded  like  a  song,  and  the  words  were  not 
like  any  that  he  had  ever  heard  since  he  came  to 
live  with  Henri  and  Brossard.  He  could  not 
forget  them,  though,  for  had  they  not  sung 
themselves  through  that  beautiful  dream  every 
time  he  had  it  ? 

"  Little  Boy  Blue,  oh,  where  are  you  ? 
O,  where  are  you-u-u-u  ?  " 

He  only  laughed  in  the  dream  picture  and 
ran  on  after  the  firefly.  Then  a  man  came 
running  after  him,  and,  catching  him,  tossed 
him  up  laughingly,  and  carried  him  to  the 
house  on  his  shoulder. 

Somebody  held  a  glass  of  cool,  creamy  milk 
for  him  to  drink,  and  by  and  by  he  was  in  a 
little  white  night-gown  in  the  woman's  lap. 
His  head  was  nestled  against  her  shoulder, 
and  he  could  feel  her  soft  lips  touching  him 
on  cheeks  and  eyelids  and  mouth,  before  she 
began  to  sing: 


$8         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

"  Oh,  little  Boy  Blue,  lay  by  your  horn, 
And  mother  will  sing  of  the  cows  and  the  corn, 
Till  the  stars  and  the  angels  come  to  keep 
Their  watch,  where  my  baby  lies  fast  asleep." 

Now  all  of  a  sudden  Jules  knew  that  there 
was  another  kind  of  hunger  worse  than  the 
longing  for  bread.  He  wanted  the  soft  touch 
of  those  lips  again  on  his  mouth  and  eyelids, 
the  loving  pressure  of  those  restful  arms,  a 
thousand  times  more  than  he  had  wished  for 
the  loaf  that  he  had  just  brought  home.  Two 
hot  tears,  that  made  his  eyes  ache  in  their  slow 
gathering,  splashed  down  on  the  window-sill. 

Down  below  Henri  opened  the  kitchen  door 
and  snapped  his  fingers  to  call  the  dog.  Look- 
ing out,  Jules  saw  him  set  a  plate  of  bones  on 
the  step.  For  a  moment  he  listened  to  the 
animal's  contented  crunching,  and  then  crept 
across  the  room  to  his  cot,  with  a  little  moan. 
"  O-o-oh  — o-oh  !  "  he  sobbed.  "  Even  the  dog 
has  more  than  I  have,  and  I'm  so  hungry  !  " 
He  hid  his  head  awhile  in  the  old  quilt ;  then 
he  raised  it  again,  and,  with  the  tears  streaming 
down  his  thin  little  face,  sobbed  in  a  heart- 
broken whisper  :  "  Mother !  Mother .'  Do  you 
know  how  hungry  I  am?" 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.         59 

A  clatter  of  knives  and  forks  from  the  kitchen 
below  was  the  only  answer,  and  he  dropped 
despairingly  down  again. 

"  She's  so  far  away  she  can't  even  hear  me !  " 
he  moaned.  "  Oh,  if  I  could  only  be  dead,  too  !  " 

He  lay  there,  crying,  till  Henri  had  finished 
washing  the  supper  dishes  and  had  put  them 
clumsily  away.  The  rank  odor  of  tobacco, 
stealing  up  the  stairs,  told  him  that  Brossard 
had  settled  down  to  enjoy  his  evening  pipe. 
Through  the  casement  window  that  was  still 
ajar  came  the  faint  notes  of  an  accordeon  from 
Monsieur  Greville's  garden,  across  the  way. 
Gabriel,  the  coachman,  was  walking  up  and 
down  in  the  moonlight,  playing  a  wheezy 
accompaniment  to  the  only  song  he  knew. 
Jules  did  not  notice  it  at  first,  but  after 
awhile,  when  he  had  cried  himself  quiet,  the 
faint  melody  began  to  steal  soothingly  into  his 
consciousness.  His  eyelids  closed  drowsily, 
and  then  the  accordeon  seemed  to  be  singing 
something  to  him.  He  could  not  understand 
at  first,  but  just  as  he  was  dropping  off  to 
sleep  he  heard  it  quite  clearly  : 

"  Till  the  stars  and  the  angels  come  to  keep 
Their  watch,  where  my  baby  lies  fast  asleep." 


6O        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Late  in  the  night  Jules  awoke  with  a  start, 
and  sat  up,  wondering  what  had  aroused  him. 
He  knew  that  it  must  be  after  midnight,  for  the 
moon  was  nearly  down.  Henri  was  snoring. 
Suddenly  such  a  strong  feeling  of  hunger  came 
over  him,  that  he  could  think  of  nothing  else. 
It  was  like  a  gnawing  pain.  As  if  he  were 
being  led  by  some  power  outside  of  his  own 
will,  he  slipped  to  the  door  of  the  room.  The 
little  bare  feet  made  no  noise  on  the  carpetless 
floor.  No  mouse  could  have  stolen  down  the 
stairs  more  silently  than  timid  little  Jules.  The 
latch  of  the  kitchen  door  gave  a  loud  click 
that  made  him  draw  back  with  a  shiver  of 
alarm ;  but  that  was  all.  After  waiting  one 
breathless  minute,  his  heart  beating  like  a 
trip-hammer,  he  went  on  into  the  pantry. 

The  moon  was  so  far  down  now,  that  only  a 
white  glimmer  of  light  showed  him  the  faint 
outline  of  things ;  but  his  keen  little  nose 
guided  him.  There  was  half  a  cheese  on  the 
swinging  shelf,  with  all  the  bread  that  had  been 
left  from  supper.  He  broke  off  great  pieces 
of  each  in  eager  haste.  Then  he  found  a  crock 
of  goat's  milk.  Lifting  it  to  his  mouth,  he 
drank  with  big,  quick  gulps  until  he  had  to 


IT  FELL  TO  THE  FLOOR  WITH  A  CRASH. 


BEHIND  THE  GREAT  GATE.        63 

stop  for  breath.  Just  as  he  was  about  to  raise 
it  to  his  lips  again,  some  instinct  of  danger 
made  him  look  up.  There  in  the  doorway 
stood  Brossard,  bigger  and  darker  and  more 
threatening  than  he  had  ever  seemed  before. 

A  frightened  little  gasp  was  all  that  the 
child  had  strength  to  give.  He  turned  so  sick 
and  faint  that  his  nerveless  fingers  could  no 
longer  hold  the  crock.  It  fell  to  the  floor  with 
a  crash,  and  the  milk  spattered  all  over  the 
pantry.  Jules  was  too  terrified  to  utter  a 
sound.  It  was  Brossard  who  made  the  out- 
cry. Jules  could  only  shut  his  eyes  and  crouch 
down  trembling,  under  the  shelf.  The  next 
instant  he  was  dragged  out,  and  Brossard's 
merciless  strap  fell  again  and  again  on  the 
poor  shrinking  little  body,  that  writhed  under 
the  cruel  blows. 

Once  more  Jules  dragged  himself  up-stairs 
to  his  cot,  this  time  bruised  and  sore,  too  ex- 
hausted for  tears,  too  hopeless  to  think  of 
possible  to-morrows. 

Poor  little  prince  in  the  clutches  of  the  ogre ! 
If  only  fairy  tales  might  be  true!  If  only 
some  gracious  spirit  of  elfin  lore  might  really 
come  at  such  a  time  with  its  magic  wand  of 


64         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

healing !  Then  there  would  be  no  more  little 
desolate  hearts,  no  more  grieved  little  faces 
with  undried  tears  upon  them  in  all  the  earth. 
Over  every  threshold  where  a  child's  wee 
feet  had  pattered  in  and  found  a  home,  it 
would  hang  its  guardian  Scissors  of  Avenging, 
so  that  only  those  who  belong  to  the  kingdom 
of  loving  hearts  and  gentle  hands  would  ever 
dare  to  enter. 


CHAPTER    IV. 

A    LETTER    AND    A    MEETING. 

NEARLY  a  week  later  Joyce  sat  at  her  desk, 
hurrying  to  finish  a  letter  before  the  postman's 
arrival. 

"  Dear  Jack,"  it  began. 

"  You  and  Mary  will  each  get  a  letter  this  week. 
Hers  is  the  fairy  tale  that  Cousin  Kate  told  me,  about 
an  old  gate  near  here.  I  wrote  it  down  as  well  as  I 
could  remember.  I  wish  you  could  see  that  gate.  It 
gets  more  interesting  every  day,  and  I'd  give  most 
anything  to  see  what  lies  on  the  other  side.  Maybe  I 
shall  soon,  for  Marie  has  a  way  of  finding  out  anything 
she  wants  to  know.  Marie  is  my  new  maid.  Cousin 
Kate  went  to  Paris  last  week,  to  be  gone  until  nearly 
Christmas,  so  she  got  Marie  to  take  care  of  me. 

"  It  seems  so  odd  to  have  somebody  button  my  boots 

and  brush  my  hair,  and  take  me  out  to  walk  as  if  I 

were  a  big  doll.     I  have  to  be  very  dignified  and  act 

as  if  I  had  always  been  used  to  such  things.     I  believe 

65 


66        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Marie  would  be  shocked  to  death  if  she  knew  that  I 
had  ever  washed  dishes,  or  pulled  weeds  out  of  the 
pavement,  or  romped  with  you  in  the  barn. 

"  Yesterday  when  we  were  out  walking  I  got  so  tired 
of  acting  as  if  I  were  a  hundred  years  old,  that  I  felt  as 
if  I  should  scream..  'Marie,'  I  said,  'I've  a  mind  to 
throw  my  muff  in  the  fence-corner  and  run  and  hang 
on  behind  that  wagon  that's  going  down-hill.'  She  had 
no  idea  that  I  was  in  earnest.  She  just  smiled  very 
politely  and  said,  '  Oh,  mademoiselle,  impossible !  How 
you  Americans  do  love  to  jest.'  But  it  was  no  joke. 
You  can't  imagine  how  stupid  it  is  to  be  with  nobody 
but  grown  people  all  the  time.  I'm  fairly  aching  for  a 
good  old  game  of  hi  spy  or  prisoner's  base  with  you. 
There  is  nothing  at  all  to  do,  but  to  take  poky  walks. 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  we  walked  down  to  the  river. 
There's  a  double  row  of  trees  along  it  on  this  side,  and 
several  benches  where  people  can  wait  for  the  tram- 
cars  that  pass  down  this  street  and  then  across  the 
bridge  into  Tours.  Marie  found  an  old  friend  of  hers 
sitting  on  one  of  the  benches,  —  such  a  big  fat  woman, 
and  oh,  such  a  gossip !  Marie  said  she  was  tired, 
so  we  sat  there  a  long  time.  Her  friend's  name  is 
Clotilde  Robard.  They  talked  about  everybody  in  St. 
Symphorien. 

"  Then  I  gossiped,  too.  I  asked  Clotilde  Robard  if 
she  knew  why  the  gate  with  the  big  scissors  was  never 
opened  any  more.  She  told  me  that  she  used  to  be  one 
of  the  maids  there,  before  she  married  the  spice-monger 
and  was  Madame  Robard.  Years  before  she  went  to 
live  there,  when  the  old  Monsieur  Ciseaux  died,  there 


OUT   WITH   MARIE. 


A    LETTER    AND    A    MEETING.  69 

was  a  dreadful  quarrel  about  some  money.  The  son 
that  got  the  property  told  his  brother  and  sister  never 
to  darken  his  doors  again. 

"  They  went  off  to  America,  and  that  big  front  gate 
has  never  been  opened  since  they  passed  out  of  it. 
Clotilde  says  that  some  people  say  that  they  put  a  curse 
on  it,  and  something  awful  will  happen  to  the  first  one 
who  dares  to  go  through.  Isn't  that  interesting? 

"  The  oldest  son,  Mr.  Martin  Ciseaux,  kept  up  the 
place  for  a  long  time,  just  as  his  father  had  done,  but 
he  never  married.  All  of  a  sudden  he  shut  up  the 
house,  sent  away  all  the  servants  but  the  two  who  take 
care  of  it,  and  went  off  to  Algiers  to  live.  Five  years  ago 
he  came  back  to  bring  his  little  grand-nephew,  but 
nobody  has  seen  him  since  that  time. 

"  Clotilde  says  that  an  orphan  asylum  would  have 
been  a  far  better  home  for  Jules  (that  is  the  boy's  name), 
for  Brossard,  the  caretaker,  is  so  mean  to  him.  Doesn't 
that  make  you  think  of  Prince  Ethelried  in  the  fairy 
tale  ?  '  Little  and  lorn ;  no  fireside  welcomed  him  and 
no  lips  gave  him  a  friendly  greeting.' 

"  Marie  says  that  she  has  often  seen  Jules  down  in 
the  field,  back  of  his  uncle's  house,  tending  the  goats. 
I  hope  that  I  may  see  him  sometime. 

"  Oh,  dear,  the  postman  has  come  sooner  than  I 
expected.  He  is  talking  down  in  the  hall  now,  and  if 
I  do  not  post  this  letter  now  it  will  miss  the  evening 
train  and  be  too  late  for  the  next  mail  steamer.  Tell 
mamma  that  I  will  answer  all  her  questions  about  my 
lessons  and  clothes  next  week.  Oceans  of  love  to 
everybody  in  the  dear  little  brown  house." 


7<D        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Hastily  scrawling  her  name,  Joyce  ran  out 
into  the  hall  with  her  letter.  "  Anything  for 
me  ? "  she  asked,  anxiously,  leaning  over  the 
banister  to  drop  the  letter  into  Marie's  hand. 
"  One,  mademoiselle,"  was  the  answer.  "  But 
it  has  not  a  foreign  stamp." 

"  Oh,  from  Cousin  Kate  !  "  exclaimed  Joyce, 
tearing  it  open  as  she  went  back  to  her  room. 
At  the  door  she  stooped  to  pick  up  a  piece  of 
paper  that  had  dropped  from  the  envelope.  It 
crackled  stiffly  as  she  unfolded  it. 

"  Money  !  "  she  exclaimed  in  surprise.  "  A 
whole  twenty  franc  note.  What  could  Cousin 
Kate  have  sent  it  for  ? "  The  last  page  of  the 
letter  explained. 

"I  have  just  remembered  that  December  is  not  very 
far  off,  and  that  whatever  little  Christmas  gifts  we  send 
home  should  soon  be  started  on  their  way.  Enclosed 
you  will  find  twenty  francs  for  your  Christmas  shopping. 
It  is  not  much,  but  we  are  too  far  away  to  send  any- 
thing but  the  simplest  little  remembrances,  things  that 
will  not  be  spoiled  in  the  mail,  and  on  which  little  or  no 
duty  need  be  paid.  You  might  buy  one  article  each 
day,  so  that  there  will  be  some  purpose  in  your  walks 
into  Tours. 

"  I  am  sorry  that  I  can  not  be  with  you  on  Thanks- 
giving Day.  We  will  have  to  drop  it  from  our  calendar 


A    LETTER    AND    A    MEETING.  J\ 

this  year;  not  the  thanksgiving  itself,  but  the  turkey 
and  mince  pie  part.  Suppose  you  take  a  few  francs  to 
give  yourself  some  little  treat  to  mark  the  day.  I  hope 
my  dear  little  girl  will  not  be  homesick  all  by  herself. 
I  never  should  have  left  just  at  this  time  if  it  had  not 
been  very  necessary." 

Joyce  smoothed  out  the  bank-note  and  looked 
at  it  with  sparkling  eyes.  Twenty  whole 
francs !  The  same  as  four  dollars !  All  the 
money  that  she  had  ever  had  in  her  whole  life 
put  together  would  not  have  amounted  to  that 
much.  Dimes  were  scarce  in  the  little  brown 
house,  and  even  pennies  seldom  found  their 
way  into  the  children's  hands  when  five  pairs 
of  little  feet  were  always  needing  shoes,  and 
five  healthy  appetites  must  be  satisfied  daily. 

All  the  time  that  Joyce  was  pinning  her 
treasure  securely  in  her  pocket  and  putting  on 
her  hat  and  jacket,  all  the  time  that  she  was 
walking  demurely  down  the  road  with  Marie, 
she  was  planning  different  ways  in  which  to 
spend  her  fortune. 

"  Mademoiselle  is  very  quiet,"  ventured 
Marie,  remembering  that  one  of  her  duties  was 
to  keep  up  an  improving  conversation  with  her 
little  mistress. 


72         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

"  Yes,"  answered  Joyce,  half  impatiently ; 
•'I've  got  something  so  lovely  to  think  about, 
that  I'd  like  to  go  back  and  sit  down  in  the 
garden  and  just  think  and  think  until  dark, 
without  being  interrupted  by  anybody." 

This  was  Marie's  opportunity.  "  Then 
mademoiselle  might  not  object  to  stopping  in 
the  garden  of  the  villa  which  we  are  now  ap- 
proaching," she  said.  "My  friend,  Clotilde 
Robard,  is  housekeeper  there,  and  I  have  a 
very  important  message  to  deliver  to  her." 

Joyce  had  no  objection.  "But,  Marie,"  she 
said,  as  she  paused  at  the  gate,  "  I  think  I'll  not 
go  in.  It  is  so  lovely  and  warm  out  here  in 
the  sun  that  I'll  just  sit  here  on  the  steps  and 
wait  for  you." 

Five  minutes  went  by  and  then  ten.  By 
that  time  Joyce  had  decided  how  to  spend 
every  centime  in  the  whole  twenty  francs,  and 
Marie  had  not  returned.  Another  five  minutes 
went  by.  It  was  dull,  sitting  there  facing  the 
lonely  highway,  down  which  no  one  ever  seemed 
to  pass.  Joyce  stood  up,  looked  all  around,  and 
then  slowly  sauntered  down  the  road  a  short 
distance. 

Here  and  there  in  the  crevices  of  the  wall 


A    LETTER    AND    A    MEETING.  73 

blossomed  a  few  hardy  wild  flowers,  which 
Joyce  began  to  gather  as  she  walked.  "  I'll  go 
around  this  bend  in  the  road  and  see  what's 
there,"  she  said  to  herself.  "By  that  time 
Marie  will  surely  be  done  with  her  messages." 

No  one  was  in  sight  in  any  direction,  and 
feeling  that  no  one  could  be  in  hearing  distance, 
either,  in  such  a  deserted  place,  she  began  to 
sing.  It  was  an  old  Mother  Goose  rhyme  that 
she  hummed  over  and  over,  in  a  low  voice  at 
first,  but  louder  as  she  walked  on. 

Around  the  bend  in  the  road  there  was 
nothing  to  be  seen  but  a  lonely  field  where 
two  goats  were  grazing.  On  one  side  of  it 
was  a  stone  wall,  on  two  others  a  tall  hedge, 
but  the  side  next  her  sloped  down  to  the  road, 
unfenced. 

Joyce,  with  her  hands  filled  with  the  yellow 
wild  flowers,  stood  looking  around  her,  sing- 
ing the  old  rhyme,  the  song  that  she  had 
taught  the  baby  to  sing  before  he  could  talk 
plainly : 

'•Little  Boy  Blue,  come  blow  your  horn, 
The  sheep's  in  the  meadow,  the  cow's  in  the  corn. 
Little  Blue  Blue,  oh,  where  are  you  ? 
Oh,  where  are  you-u-u-u  ?  " 


74        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

The  gay  little  voice  that  had  been  rising 
higher  and  higher,  sweet  as  any  bird's,  stopped 
suddenly  in  mid-air ;  for,  as  if  in  answer  to  her 
call,  there  was  a  rustling  just  ahead  of  her,  and 
a  boy  who  had  been  lying  on  his  back,  looking 
at  the  sky,  slowly  raised  himself  out  of  the 
grass. 

For  an  instant  Joyce  was  startled ;  then  see- 
ing by  his  wooden  shoes  and  old  blue  cotton 
blouse  that  he  was  only  a  little  peasant  watch- 
ing the  goats,  she  smiled  at  him  with  a  pleasant 
good  morning. 

He  did  not  answer,  but  came  towards  her 
with  a  dazed  expression  on  his  face,  as  if  he 
were  groping  his  way  through  some  strange 
dream.  "  It  is  time  to  go  in  !  "  he  exclaimed, 
as  if  repeating  some  lesson  learned  long  ago, 
and  half  forgotten. 

Joyce  stared  at  him  in  open-mouthed  aston- 
ishment. The  little  fellow  had  spoken  in  Eng- 
lish. "  Oh,  you  must  be  Jules,"  she  cried. 
"  Aren't  you  ?  I've  been  wanting  to  find  you 
for  ever  so  long." 

The  boy  seemed  frightened,  and  did  not 
answer,  only  looked  at  her  with  big,  troubled 
eyes.  Thinking  that  she  had  made  a  mistake, 


HE   CAME  TOWARDS    HER    WITH   A   DAZED    EXPRESSION 
ON    HIS   FACE." 


A   LETTER    AND    A    MEETING  // 

that  she  had  not  heard  aright,  Joyce  spoke  in 
French.  He  answered  her  timidly.  She  had 
not  been  mistaken  ;  he  was  Jules ;  he  had  been 
asleep,  he  told  her,  and  when  he  heard  her 
singing,  he  thought  it  was  his  mother  calling 
him  as  she  used  to  do,  and  had  started  up  ex- 
pecting to  see  her  at  last.  Where  was  she? 
Did  mademoiselle  know  her  ?  Surely  she  must 
if  she  knew  the  song. 

It  was  on  the  tip  of  Joyce's  tongue  to  tell 
him  that  everybody  knew  that  song  ;  that  it 
was  as  familiar  to  the  children  at  home  as  the 
chirping  of  crickets  on  the  hearth  or  the  sight 
of  dandelions  in  the  spring-time.  But  some 
instinct  warned  her  not  to  say  it.  She  was 
glad  afterwards,  when  she  found  that  it  was 
sacred  to  him,  woven  in  as  it  was  with  his  one 
beautiful  memory  of  a  home.  It  was  all  he 
had,  and  the  few  words  that  Joyce's  singing 
had  startled  from  him  were  all  that  he  remem- 
bered of  his  mother's  speech. 

If  Joyce  had  happened  upon  him  in  any  other 
way,  it  is  doubtful  if  their  acquaintance  would 
have  grown  very  rapidly.  He  was  afraid  of 
strangers ;  but  coming  as  she  did  with  the 
familiar  song  that  was  like  an  old  friend,  he 


78        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

felt  that  he  must  have  known  her  sometime,  — 
that  other  time  when  there  was  always  a  sweet 
voice  calling,  and  fireflies  twinkled  across  a 
dusky  lawn. 

Joyce  was  not  in  a  hurry  for  Marie  to  come 
now.  She  had  a  hundred  questions  to  ask,  and 
made  the  most  of  her  time  by  talking  very  fast. 
"Marie  will  be  frightened,"  she  told  Jules, 
"  if  she  does  not  find  me  at  the  gate,  and  will 
think  that  the  gypsies  have  stolen  me.  Then 
she  will  begin  to  hunt  up  and  down  the  road, 
and  I  don't  know  what  she  would  say  if  she 
came  and  found  me  talking  to  a  strange  child 
out  in  the  fields,  so  I  must  hurry  back.  I 
am  glad  that  I  found  you.  I  have  been  wish- 
ing so  long  for  somebody  to  play  with,  and 
you  seem  like  an  old  friend  because  you  were 
born  in  America.  I'm  going  to  ask  ma- 
dame  to  ask  Brossard  to  let  you  come  over 
sometime.'* 

Jules  watched  her  as  she  hurried  away,  run- 
ning lightly  down  the  road,  her  fair  hair  flying 
over  her  shoulders  and  her  short  blue  skirt 
fluttering.  Once  she  looked  back  to  wave  her 
hand.  Long  after  she  was  out  of  sight  he  still 
stood  looking  after  her,  as  one  might  gaze  long- 


A    LETTER    AND    A    MEETING.  79 

ingly  after  some  visitant  from  another  world. 
Nothing  like  her  had  ever  dropped  into  his  life 
before,  and  he  wondered  if  he  should  ever  see 
her  again. 


CHAPTER  V. 


A   THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE. 

44    MHBia  HIS   doesn't  seem  a 
bit  like  Thanksgiving 
Day,     Marie,"     said 
Joyce,  plaintively,  as 
she  sat  up  in  bed  to 
take  the  early  breakfast  that 
her  maid  brought  in,  — a  cup 
of  chocolate  and  a  roll. 

"  In  our  country  the  very 

minute  you  wake  up  you  can  feel  that  it  is  a 
holiday.  Outdoors  it's  nearly  always  cold  and 
gray,  with  everything  covered  with  snow.  In- 
side you  can  smell  turkey  and  pies  and  all 
sorts  of  good  spicy  things.  Here  it  is  so  warm 
that  the  windows  are  open  and  flowers  bloom- 
ing in  the  garden,  and  there  isn't  a  thing  to 
make  it  seem  different  from  any  other  old 
day." 


A   THANKSGIVING   BARBECUE.  8 1 

Here  her  grumbling  was  interrupted  by  a 
knock  at  the  door,  and  Madame  Greville's 
maid,  Berthe,  came  in  with  a  message. 

"  Madame  and  monsieur  intend  spending  the 
day  in  Tours,  and  since  Mademoiselle  Ware  has 
written  that  Mademoiselle  Joyce  is  to  have  no 
lessons  on  this  American  holiday,  they  will  be 
pleased  to  have  her  accompany  them  in  the 
carriage.  She  can  spend  the  morning  with 
them  there  or  return  immediately  with  Ga- 
briel." 

"Of  course  I  want  to  go,"  cried  Joyce.  "I 
love  to  drive.  But  I'd  rather  come  back  here 
to  lunch  and  have  it  by  myself  in  the  garden. 
Berthe,  ask  madame  if  I  can't  have  it  served 
in  the  little  kiosk  at  the  end  of  the  arbor." 

As  soon  as  she  had  received  a  most  gracious 
permission,  Joyce  began  to  make  a  little  plan. 
It  troubled  her  conscience  somewhat,  for  she 
felt  that  she  ought  to  mention  it  to  madame, 
but  she  was  almost  certain  that  madame  would 
object,  and  she  had  set  her  heart  on  carrying 
it  out. 

"  I  won't  speak  about  it  now,"  she  said  to 
herself,  "  because  I  am  not  sure  that  I  am 
going  to  do  it.  Mamma  would  think  it  was 


82         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

all  right,  but  foreigners  are  so  queer  about 
some  things." 

Uncertain  as  Joyce  may  have  been  about 
her  future  actions,  as  they  drove  towards  town, 
no  sooner  had  madame  and  monsieur  stepped 
from  the  carriage,  on  the  Rue  Nationale,  than 
she  was  perfectly  sure. 

"  Stop  at  the  baker's,  Gabriel,"  she  ordered 
as  they  turned  homeward,  then  at  the  big 
grocery  on  the  corner.  "  Cousin  Kate  told 
me  to  treat  myself  to  something  nice,"  she 
said  apologetically  to  her  conscience,  as  she 
gave  up  the  twenty  francs  to  the  clerk  to  be 
changed. 

If  Gabriel  wondered  what  was  in  the  little 
parcels  which  she  brought  back  to  the  car- 
riage, he  made  no  sign.  He  only  touched  his 
hat  respectfully,  as  she  gave  the  next  order: 
"  Stop  where  the  road  turns  by  the  cemetery, 
Gabriel ;  at  the  house  with  the  steps  going  up 
to  an  iron-barred  gate.  I'll  be  back  in  two  or 
three  minutes,"  she  said,  when  she  had  reached 
it,  and  climbed  from  the  carriage. 

To  his  surprise,  instead  of  entering  the  gate, 
she  hurried  on  past  it,  around  the  bend  in  the 
road.  In  a  little  while  she  came  running  back, 


A    THANKSGIVING   BAfcBECUfe.  83 

her  shoes  covered  with  damp  earth,  as  if  she 
had  been  walking  in  a  freshly  ploughed  field. 

If  Gabriel's  eyes  could  have  followed  her 
around  that  bend  in  the  road,  he  would  have 
seen  a  sight  past  his  understanding :  Mademoi- 
selle Joyce  running  at  the  top  of  her  speed  to 
meet  a  little  goatherd  in  wooden  shoes  and 
blue  cotton  blouse,  —  a  common  little  peasant 
goatherd. 

"It's  Thanksgiving  Day,  Jules,"  she  an- 
nounced, gasping,  as  she  sank  down  on  the 
ground  beside  him.  "We're  the  only  Ameri- 
cans here,  and  everybody  has  gone  off;  and 
Cousin  Kate  said  to  celebrate  in  some  way. 
I'm  going  to  have  a  dinner  in  the  garden. 
I've  bought  a  rabbit,  and  we'll  dig  a  hole, 
and  make  a  fire,  and  barbecue  it  the  way  Jack 
and  I  used  to  do  at  home.  And  we'll  roast 
eggs  in  the  ashes,  and  have  a  fine  time.  I've 
got  a  lemon  tart  and  a  little  iced  fruit-cake, 
too." 

All  this  was  poured  out  in  such  breathless 
haste,  and  in  such  a  confusion  of  tongues,  first  a 
sentence  of  English  and  then  a  word  of  French, 
that  it  is  no  wonder  that  Jules  grew  bewildered 
in  trying  to  follow  her.  She  had  to  begin 


84        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

again  at  the  beginning,  and  speak  very  slowly, 
in  order  to  make  him  understand  that  it  was  a 
feast  day  of  some  kind,  and  that  he,  Jules,  was 
invited  to  some  sort  of  a  strange,  wonderful 
entertainment  in  Monsieur  GreVille's  garden. 
"  But  Brossard  is  away  from  home,"  said  Jules, 
"and  there  is  no  one  to  watch  the  goats,  and 
keep  them  from  straying  down  the  road.  Still 
it  would  be  just  the  same  if  he  were  home,"  he 
added,  sadly.  "  He  would  not  let  me  go,  I  am 
sure.  I  have  never  been  out  of  sight  of  that 
roof  since  I  first  came  here,  except  on  errands 
to  the  village,  when  I  had  to  run  all  the  way 
back."  He  pointed  to  the  peaked  gables, 
adorned  by  the  scissors  of  his  crazy  old 
ancestor. 

"Brossard  isn't  your  father,"  cried  Joyce, 
indignantly,  "nor  your  uncle,  nor  your  cousin, 
nor  anything  else  that  has  a  right  to  shut  you 
up  that  way.  Isn't  there  a  field  with  a  fence 
all  around  it,  that  you  could  drive  the  goats 
into  for  a  few  hours?" 

Jules  shook  his  head. 

"Well,  I  can't  have  my  Thanksgiving  spoiled 
for  just  a  couple  of  old  goats,"  exclaimed  Joyce. 
"You'll  have  to  bring  them  along,  and  we'll 


A    THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE.  85 

shut  them  up  in  the  carriage-house.  You 
come  over  in  about  an  hour,  and  I'll  be  at 
the  side  gate  waiting  for  you." 

Joyce  had  always  been  a  general  in  her  small 
way.  She  made  her  plans  and  issued  her  orders 
both  at  home  and  at  school,  and  the  children 
accepted  her  leadership  as  a  matter  of  course. 
Even  if  Jules  had  not  been  willing  and  anxious 
to  go,  it  is  doubtful  if  he  could  have  mustered 
courage  to  oppose  the  arrangements  that  she 
made  in  such  a  masterful  way;  but  Jules  had 
not  the  slightest  wish  to  object  to  anything 
whatsoever  that  Joyce  might  propose. 

It  is  safe  to  say  that  the  old  garden  had 
never  before  even  dreamed  of  such  a  celebra- 
tion as  the  one  that  took  place  that  afternoon 
behind  its  moss-coated  walls.  The  time-stained 
statue  of  Eve,  which  stood  on  one  side  of  the 
fountain,  looked  across  at  the  weather-beaten 
figure  of  Adam,  on  the  other  side,  in  stony- 
eyed  surprise.  The  little  marble  satyr  in  the 
middle  of  the  fountain,  which  had  been  grin- 
ning ever  since  its  endless  shower-bath  began, 
seemed  to  grin  wider  than  ever,  as  it  watched 
the  children's  strange  sport. 

Jules    dug    the    little    trench    according  to 


8O        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Joyce's  directions,  and  laid  the  iron  grating 
which  she  had  borrowed  from  the  cook  across 
it,  and  built  the  fire  underneath.  "  We  ought  to 
have  something  especially  patriotic  and  Thanks- 
givingey,"  said  Joyce,  standing  on  one  foot  to 
consider.  "Oh,  now  I  know."  she  cried,  after 
a  moment's  thought.  "  Cousin  Kate  has  a 
lovely  big  silk  flag  in  the  top  of  her  trunk. 
I'll  run  and  get  that,  and  then  I'll  recite  the 
'  Landing  of  the  Pilgrims '  to  you  while  the 
rabbit  cooks." 

Presently  a  savory  odor  began  to  steal  along 
the  winding  paths  of  the  garden,  between  the 
laurel-bushes,  — a  smell  of  barbecued  meat  sput- 
tering over  the  fire.  Above  the  door  of  the 
little  kiosk,  with  many  a  soft  swish  of  silken 
stirrings,  hung  the  beautiful  old  flag.  Then 
a  clear  little  voice  floated  up  through  the  pine- 
trees  : 

"  My  country,  'tis  of  thee, 

Sweet  land  of  liberty, 

Of  thee  I  sing !  " 

All  the  time  that  Joyce  sang,  she  was  mov- 
ing around  the  table,  setting  out  the  plates  and 
rattling  cups  and  saucers.  She  could  not  keep 
a  little  quaver  out  of  her  voice,  for,  as  she  went 


A   THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE.  8/ 

on,  all  the  scenes  of  all  the  times  that  she  had 
sung  that  song  before  came  crowding  up  in  her 
memory.  There  were  the  Thanksgiving  days 
in  the  church  at  home,  and  the  Washington's 
birthdays  at  school,  and  two  Decoration  days, 
when,  as  a  granddaughter  of  a  veteran,  she  had 
helped  scatter  flowers  over  the  soldiers'  graves. 

Somehow  it  made  her  feel  so  hopelessly  far 
away  from  all  that  made  life  dear  to  be  singing 
of  that  "sweet  land  of  liberty"  in  a  foreign 
country,  with  only  poor  little  alien  Jules  for 
company. 

Maybe  that  is  why  the  boy's  first  lesson  in 
patriotism  was  given  so  earnestly  by  his  home- 
sick little  teacher.  Something  that  could  not  be 
put  into  words  stirred  within  him,  as,  looking  up 
at  the  soft  silken  flutterings  of  the  old  flag,  he 
listened  for  the  first  time  to  the  story  of  the 
Pilgrim  Fathers. 

The  rabbit  cooked  slowly,  so  slowly  that  there 
was  time  for  Jules  to  learn  how  to  play  mumble- 
peg  while  they  waited.  At  last  it  was  done,  and 
Joyce  proudly  plumped  it  into  the  platter  that 
had  been  waiting  for  it.  Marie  had  already 
brought  out  a  bountiful  lunch,  cold  meats  and 
salad  and  a  dainty  pudding.  By  the  time  that 


88         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Joyce  had  added  her  contribution  to  the  feast, 
there  was  scarcely  an  inch  of  the 'table  left 
uncovered.  Jules  did  not  know  the  names  of 
half  the  dishes. 

Not  many  miles  away  from  that  old  garden, 
scattered  up  and  down  the  Loire  throughout 
all  the  region  of  fair  Tourraine,  rise  the  turrets 
of  many  an  old  chateau.  Great  banquet  halls, 
where  kings  and  queens  once  feasted,  still  stand 
as  silent  witnesses  of  a  gay  bygone  court  life ; 
but  never  in  any  chateau  or  palace  among  them 
all  was  feast  more  thoroughly  enjoyed  than 
this  impromptu  dinner  in  the  garden,  where  a 
little  goatherd  was  the  only  guest. 

It  was  an  enchanted  spot  to  Jules,  made  so 
by  the  magic  of  Joyce's  wonderful  gift  of  story- 
telling. For  the  first  time  in  his  life  that  he 
could  remember,  he  heard  of  Santa  Claus  and 
Christmas  trees,  of  Bluebeard  and  Aladdin's 
lamp,  and  all  the  dear  old  fairy  tales  that  were 
so  entrancing  he  almost  forgot  to  eat. 

Then  they  played  that  he  was  the  prince, 
Prince  Ethelried,  and  that  the  goats  in  the 
carriage-house  were  his  royal  steeds,  and  that 
Joyce  was  a  queen  whom  he  had  come  to  visit. 

But  it  came  to  an  end,  as  all  beautiful  things 


A   LESSON    IN    PATRIOTISM. 


A   THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE.  9! 

must  do.  The  bells  in  the  village  rang  four, 
and  Prince  Ethelried  started  up  as  Cinderella 
must  have  done  when  the  pumpkin  coach  dis- 
appeared. He  was  no  longer  a  king's  son ;  he 
was  only  Jules,  the  little  goatherd,  who  must 
hurry  back  to  the  field  before  the  coming  of 
Brossard. 

Joyce  went  with  him  to  the  carriage-house. 
Together  they  swung  open  the  great  door. 
Then  an  exclamation  of  dismay  fell  from 
Joyce's  lips.  All  over  the  floor  were  scattered 
scraps  of  leather  and  cloth  and  hair,  the  kind 
used  in  upholstering.  The  goats  had  whiled 
away  the  hours  of  their  imprisonment  by  chew- 
ing up  the  cushions  of  the  pony  cart. 

Jules  turned  pale  with  fright.  Knowing  so 
little  of  the  world,  he  judged  all  grown  people 
by  his  knowledge  of  Henri  and  Brossard. 
"  Oh,  what  will  they  do  to  us  ? "  he  gasped. 

"  Nothing  at  all,"  answered  Joyce,  bravely, 
although  her  heart  beat  twice  as  fast  as  usual 
as  monsieur's  accusing  face  rose  up  before 
her. 

"It  was  all  my  fault,"  said  Jules,  ready  to 
cry.  "What  must  I  do?"  Joyce  saw  his 
distress,  and  with  quick  womanly  tact  recog- 


92        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

nized  her  duty  as  hostess.  It  would  never  do  to 
let  this,  his  first  Thanksgiving  Day,  be  clouded 
by  a  single  unhappy  remembrance.  She  would 
pretend  that  it  was  a  part  of  their  last  game ; 
so  she  waved  her  hand,  and  said,  in  a  theatrical 
voice,  "You  forget,  Prince  Ethelried,  that  in 
the  castle  of  Irmingarde  she  rules  supreme. 
If  it  is  the  pleasure  of  your  royal  steeds  to 
feed  upon  cushions  they  shall  not  be  denied, 
even  though  they  choose  my  own  coach 
pillows,  of  gold-cloth  and  velour." 

"  But  what  if  Gabriel  should  tell  Brossard  ?  " 
questioned  Jules,  his  teeth  almost  chattering  at 
the  mere  thought. 

"  Oh,  never  mind,  Jules,"  she  answered,  laugh- 
ingly. "  Don't  worry  about  a  little  thing  like 
that.  I'll  make  it  all  right  with  madame  as 
soon  as  she  gets  home." 

Jules,  with  utmost  faith  in  Joyce's  power  to 
do  anything  that  she  might  undertake,  drew 
a  long  breath  of  relief.  Half  a  dozen  times 
between  the  gate  and  the  lane  that  led  into 
the  Ciseaux  field,  he  turned  around  to  wave  his 
old  cap  in  answer  to  the  hopeful  flutter  of  her 
little  white  handkerchief ;  but  when  he  was 
out  of  sight  she  went  back  to  the  carriage- 


A    THANKSGIVING   BARBECUE.  §3 

house  and  looked  at  the  wreck  of  the  cushions 
with  a  sinking  heart.  After  that  second  look, 
she  was  not  so  sure  of  making  it  all  right  with 
madam  e. 

Going  slowly  up  to  her  room,  she  curled  up 
in  the  window-seat  to  wait  for  the  sound  of  the 
carriage  wheels.  The  blue  parrots  on  the  wall- 
paper sat  in  their  blue  hoops  in  straight  rows 
from  floor  to  ceiling,  and  hung  all  their  dismal 
heads.  It  seemed  to  Joyce  as  if  there  were 
thousands  of  them,  and  that  each  one  was  more 
unhappy  than  any  of  the  others.  The  blue  roses 
on  the  bed-curtains,  that  had  been  in  such  gay 
blossom  a  few  hours  before,  looked  ugly  and 
unnatural  now. 

Over  the  mantel  hung  a  picture  that  had 
been  a  pleasure  to  Joyce  ever  since  she  had 
taken  up  her  abode  in  this  quaint  blue  room. 
It  was  called  "  A  Message  from  Noel,"  and 
showed  an  angel  flying  down  with  gifts  to  fill 
a  pair  of  little  wooden  shoes  that  some  child 
had  put  out  on  a  window-sill  below.  When 
madame  had  explained  that  the  little  French 
children  put  out  their  shoes  for  Saint  Noel 
to  fill,  instead  of  hanging  stockings  for  Santa 
Glaus,  Joyce  had  been  so  charmed  with  the 


94        THE    GATE    OP    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

picture  that  she  declared  that  she  intended  to 
follow  the  French  custom  herself,  this  year. 

Now,  even  the  picture  looked  different,  since 
she  had  lost  her  joyful  anticipations  of  Christ- 
mas. "It  is  all  No-el  to  me  now,"  she  sobbed. 
"  No  tree,  no  Santa  Claus,  and  now,  since  the 
money  must  go  to  pay  for  the  goats'  mischief,  no 
presents  for  anybody  in  the  dear  little  brown 
house  at  home,  —  not  even  mamma  and  the 
baby ! " 

A  big  salty  tear  trickled  down  the  side  of 
Joyce's  nose  and  splashed  on  her  hand ;  then 
another  one.  It  was  such  a  gloomy  ending  for 
her  happy  Thanksgiving  Day.  One  consoling 
thought  came  to  her  in  time  to  stop  the  deluge 
that  threatened.  "Anyway,  Jules  has  had  a 
good  time  for  once  in  his  life."  The  thought 
cheered  her  so  much  that,  when  Marie  came  in 
to  light  the  lamps,  Joyce  was  walking  up  and 
down  the  room  with  her  hands  behind  her  back, 
singing. 

As  soon  as  she  was  dressed  for  dinner  she 
went  down-stairs,  but  found  no  one  in  the 
drawing-room.  A  small  fire  burned  cozily  on 
the  hearth,  for  the  November  nights  were  grow- 
ing chilly.  Joyce  picked  up  a  book  and  tried 


A    THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE.  95 

to  read,  but  found  herself  looking  towards  the 
door  fully  as  often  as  at  the  page  before  her. 
Presently  she  set  her  teeth  together  and  swal- 
lowed hard,  for  there  was  a  rustling  in  the  hall. 
The  portiere  was  pushed  aside  and  madame 
swept  into  the  room 
in  a  dinner-gown  of 
dark  red  velvet. 

To  Joyce's  waiting 
eyes  she  seemed  more 
imposing,  more  ele- 
gant, and  more  unap- 
proachable than  she 
had  ever  been  before. 
At  madame's  en- 
trance Joyce  rose  as 
usual,  but  when  the 
red  velvet  train  had 
swept  on  to  a  seat 
beside  the  fire,  she  still  remained  standing. 
Her  lips  seemed  glued  together  after  those 
first  words  of  greeting. 

"  Be   seated,   mademoiselle,"    said    the  lady, 

with  a  graceful  motion  of  her  hand  towards  a 

chair.     "  How  have  you  enjoyed  your  holiday  ?  " 

Joyce  gave   a  final    swallow  of  the  choking 


9&         THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

lump  in  her  throat,  and  began  her  humble  con- 
fession that  she  had  framed  up-stairs  among 
the  rows  of  dismal  blue  wall-paper  parrots.  She 
started  with  Clotilde  Robard's  story  of  Jules, 
told  of  her  accidental  meeting  with  him,  of  all 
that  she  knew  of  his  hard  life  with  Brossard, 
and  of  her  longing  for  some  one  to  play  with. 
Then  she  acknowledged  that  she  had  planned 
the  barbecue  secretly,  fearing  that  madame 
would  not  allow  her  to  invite  the  little  goat- 
herd. At  the  conclusion,  she  opened  the  hand- 
kerchief which  she  had  been  holding  tightly 
clenched  in  her  hand,  and  poured  its  contents 
in  the  red  velvet  lap. 

"There's  all  that  is  left  of  my  Christmas 
money,"  she  said,  sadly,  "  seventeen  francs 
and  two  sous.  If  it  isn't  enough  to  pay  for  the 
cushions,  I'll  write  to  Cousin  Kate,  and  maybe 
she  will  lend  me  the  rest." 

Madame  gathered  up  the  handful  of  coin, 
and  slowly  rose.  "  It  is  only  a  step  to  the  car- 
riage-house," she  said.  "  If  you  will  kindly 
ring  for  Berthe  to  bring  a  lamp  we  will  look  to 
see  how  much  damage  has  been  done." 

It  was  an  unusual  procession  that  filed  down 
the  garden  walk  a  few  minutes  later.  First 


A    THANKSGIVING    BARBECUE.  9/ 

came  Berthe,  in  her  black  dress  and  white  cap, 
holding  a  lamp  high  above  her  head,  and  screw- 
ing her  forehead  into  a  mass  of  wrinkles  as  she 
peered  out  into  the  surrounding  darkness. 
After  her  came  madame,  holding  up  her  dress 
and  stepping  daintily  along  in  her  high-heeled 
little  slippers.  Joyce  brought  up  the  rear, 
stumbling  along  in  the  darkness  of  madame's 
large  shadow,  so  absorbed  in  her  troubles  that 
she  did  not  see  the  amused  expression  on  the 
face  of  the  grinning  satyr  in  the  fountain. 

Eve,  looking  across  at  Adam,  seemed  to  wink 
one  of  her  stony  eyes,  as  much  as  to  say, 
"  Humph  !  Somebody  else  has  been  getting 
into  trouble.  There's  more  kinds  of  forbidden 
fruit  than  one ;  pony-cart  cushions,  for  in- 
stance." 

Berthe  opened  the  door,  and  madame  stepped 
inside  the  carriage-house.  With  her  skirts 
held  high  in  both  hands,  she  moved  around 
among  the  wreck  of  the  cushions,  turning  over 
a  bit  with  the  toe  of  her  slipper  now  and  then. 

Madame  wore  velvet  dinner-gowns,  it  is  true, 
and  her  house  was  elegant  in  its  fine  old  fur- 
nishings bought  generations  ago  ;  but  only  her 
dressmaker  and  herself  knew  how  many  times 


98        THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

those  gowns  had  been  ripped  and  cleaned  and 
remodelled.  It  was  only  constant  housewifely 
skill  that  kept  the  antique  furniture  repaired 
and  the  ancient  brocade  hangings  from  falling 
into  holes.  None  but  a  French  woman,  trained 
in  petty  economies,  could  have  guessed  how 
little  money  and  how  much  thought  was  spent 
in  keeping  her  table  up  to  its  high  standard  of 
excellence. 

Now  as  she  looked  and  estimated,  counting 
the  fingers  of  one  hand  with  the  thumb  of  the 
other,  a  wish  stirred  in  her  kind  old  heart  that 
she  need  not  take  the  child's  money  ;  but  new 
cushions  must  be  bought,  and  she  must  be  just 
to  herself  before  she  could  be  generous  to 
others.  So  she  went  on  with  her  estimating 
and  counting,  and  then  called  Gabriel  to  con- 
sult with  him. 

"  Much  of  the  same  hair  can  be  used  again," 
she  said,  finally,  "  and  the  cushions  were  partly 
worn,  so  that  it  would  not  be  right  for  you  to 
have  to  bear  the  whole  expense  of  new  ones. 
I  shall  keep  sixteen,  —  no,  I  shall  keep  only 
fifteen  francs  of  your  money,  mademoiselle.  I 
am  sorry  to  take  any  of  it,  since  you  have  been 
so  frank  with  me  ;  but  you  must  see  that  it 


A   THANKSGIVING   BARBECUE.  99 

would  not  be  justice  for  me  to  have  to  suffer  in 
consequence  of  your  fault.  In  France,  children 
do  nothing  without  the  permission  of  their 
elders,  and  it  would  be  well  for  you  to  adopt 
the  same  rule,  my  dear  mademoiselle." 

Here  she  dropped  two  francs  and  two  sous 
into  Joyce's  hand.  It  was  more  than  she  had 
dared  to  hope  for.  Now  there  would  be  at 
least  a  little  picture-book  apiece  for  the  chil 
dren  at  home. 

This  time  Joyce  saw  the  grin  on  the  satyr's 
face  when  they  passed  the  fountain.  She  was 
smiling  herself  when  they  entered  the  house, 
where  monsieur  was  waiting  to  escort  them 
politely  in  to  dinner. 


CHAPTER   VI. 

JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST. 

MONSIEUR  CISEAUX  was  coming  home  to  live. 
Gabriel  brought  the  news  when  he  came  back 
from  market.  He  had  met  Henri  on  the  road 
and  heard  it  from  him.  Monsieur  was  coming 
home.  That  was  all  they  knew ;  as  to  the  day 
or  the  hour,  no  one  could  guess.  That  was  the 
way  with  monsieur,  Henri  said.  He  was  so 
peculiar  one  never  knew  what  to  expect. 

Although  the  work  of  opening  the  great 
house  was  begun  immediately,  and  a  thorough 
cleaning  was  in  progress  from  garret  to  cellar, 
Brossard  did  not  believe  that  his  master  would 
really  be  at  home  before  the  end  of  the  week. 
He  made  his  own  plans  accordingly,  although 
he  hurried  Henri  relentlessly  with  the  cleaning. 

As  soon  as  Joyce  heard  the  news  she  made 
an  excuse  to  slip  away,  and  ran  down  to  the 
field  to  Jules.  She  found  him  paler  than 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  IOI 

usual,  and  there  was  a  swollen  look  about  his 
eyes  that  made  her  think  that  maybe  he  had 
been  crying. 

"  What's  the  matter  ?  "  she  asked.  "  Aren't 
you  glad  that  your  uncle  is  coming  home  ? " 

Jules  gave  a  cautious  glance  over  his  shoulder 
towards  the  house,  and  then  looked  up  at  Joyce. 
Heretofore,  some  inward  monitor  of  pride  had 
closed  his  lips  about  himself  whenever  he  had 
been  with  her,  but,  since  the  Thanksgiving  Day 
that  had  made  them  such  firm  friends,  he  had 
wished  every  hour  that  he  could  tell  her  of  his 
troubles.  He  felt  that  she  was  the  only  person 
in  the  world  who  took  any  interest  in  him. 
Although  she  was  only  three  years  older  than 
himself,  she  had  that  "motherly  little  way  with 
her  that  eldest  daughters  are  apt  to  acquire 
when  there  is  a  whole  brood  of  little  brothers 
and  sisters  constantly  claiming  attention. 

So  when  Joyce  asked  again,  "What's  the 
matter,  Jules  ? "  with  so  much  anxious  sym- 
pathy in  her  face  and  voice,  the  child  found 
himself  blurting  out  the  truth. 

"Brossard  beat  me  again  last  night,"  he 
exclaimed.  Then,  in  response  to  her  indignant 
exclamation,  he  poured  out  the  whole  story  of 


IO2      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

his  ill-treatment.  "  See  here  !  "  he  cried,  in 
conclusion,  unbuttoning  his  blouse  and  baring 
his  thin  little  shoulders.  Great  red  welts  lay 
across  them,  and  one  arm  was  blue  with  a  big 
mottled  bruise. 

Joyce  shivered  and  closed  her  eyes  an  instant 
to  shut  out  the  sight  that  brought  the  quick 
tears  of  sympathy. 

"  Oh,  you  poor  little  thing !  "  she  cried.  "  I'm 
going  to  tell  madame." 

"  No,  don't !  "  begged  Jules.  "  If  Brossard 
ever  found  out  that  I  had  told  anybody,  I 
believe  that  he  would  half  kill  me.  He  pun- 
ishes me  for  the  least  thing.  I  had  no  break- 
fast this  morning  because  I  dropped  an  old 
plate  and  broke  it." 

"Do  you  mean  to  say,"  cried  Joyce,  "that 
you  have  been  out  here  in  the  field  since  sun- 
rise without  a  bite  to  eat  ? " 

Jules  nodded. 

"Then  I'm  going  straight  home  to  get  you 
something."  Before  he  could  answer  she  was 
darting  over  the  fields  like  a  little  flying  squirrel. 

"  Oh,  what  if  it  were  Jack!"  she  kept  repeat- 
ing as  she  ran.  "  Dear  old  Jack,  beaten  and 
starved,  without  anybody  to  love  him  or  say  a 


JOYCE  PLAYS  GHOST.          IO3 

kind  word  to  him."  The  mere  thought  of  such 
misfortune  brought  a  sob. 

In  a  very  few  minutes  Jules  saw  her  coming 
across  the  field  again,  more  slowly  this  time, 
for  both  hands  were  full,  and  without  their  aid 
she  had  no  way  to  steady  the  big  hat  that 
flapped  forward  into  her  eyes  at  every  step. 
Jules  eyed  the  food  ravenously.  He  had  not 
known  how  weak  and  hungry  he  was  until 
then. 

"  It  will  not  be  like  this  when  your  uncle 
comes  home,"  said  Joyce,  as  she  watched  the 
big  mouthfuls  disappear  down  the  grateful 
little  throat.  Jules  shrugged  his  shoulders, 
answering  tremulously,  "  Oh,  yes,  it  will  be  lots 
worse.  Brossard  says  that  my  Uncle  Martin 
has  a  terrible  temper,  and  that  he  turned  his 
poor  sister  and  my  grandfather  out  of  the 
house  one  stormy  might.  Brossard  says  he 
shall  tell  him  how  troublesome  I  am,  and 
likely  he  will  turn  me  out,  too.  Or,  if  he 
doesn't  do  that,  they  will  both  whip  me  every 
day." 

Joyce  stamped  her  foot.  "  I  don't  believe 
it,"  she  cried,  indignantly.  "  Brossard  is  only 
trying  to  scare  you.  Your  uncle  is  an  old  man 


IO4     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

now,  so  old  that  he  must  be  sorry  for  the  way 
he  acted  when  he  was  young.  Why,  of  course 
he  must  be,"  she  repeated,  "or  he  never  would 
have  brought  you  here  when  you  were  left  a 
homeless  baby.  More  than 'that,  I  believe  he 
will  be  angry  when  he  finds  how  you  have  been 
treated.  Maybe  he  will  send  Brossard  away 
when  you  tell  him." 

"I  would  not  dare  to  tell  him,"  said  Jules, 
shrinking  back  at  the  bare  suggestion. 

"Then  /  dare,"  cried  Joyce  with  flashing 
eyes.  "  I  am  not  afraid  of  Brossard  or  Henri 
or  your  uncle,  or  any  man  that  I  ever  knew. 
What's  more,  I  intend  to  march  over  here 
just  as  soon  as  your  uncle  comes  home,  and  tell 
him  right  before  Brossard  how  you  have  been 
treated." 

Jules  gasped  in  admiration  of  such  reckless 
courage.  "  Seems  to  me  Brossard  himself 
would  be  afraid  of  you  if  you  looked  at  him 
that  way."  Then  his  voice  sank  to  a  whisper. 
"  Brossard  is  afraid  of  one  thing,  I've  heard 
him  tell  Henri  so,  and  that  is  ghosts.  They 
talk  about  them  every  night  when  the  wind 
blows  hard  and  makes  queer  noises  in  the 
chimney.  Sometimes  they  are  afraid  to  put 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  10$ 

out  their  candles  for  fear  some  evil  spirit 
might  be  in  the  room." 

"I'm  glad  he  is  afraid  of  something,  the 
mean  old  thing ! "  exclaimed  Joyce.  For  a 
few  moments  nothing  more  was  said,  but 
Jules  felt  comforted  now  that  he  had  unbur- 
dened his  long  pent  up  little  heart.  He 
reached  out  for  several  blades  of  grass  and 
began  idly  twisting  them  around  his  finger. 

Joyce  sat  with  her  hands  clasped  over  her 
knees,  and  a  wicked  little  gleam  in  her  eyes 
that  boded  mischief.  Presently  she  giggled 
as  if  some  amusing  thought  had  occurred  to 
her,  and  when  Jules  looked  up  inquiringly  she 
began  noiselessly  clapping  her  hands  together. 

"  I've  thought  of  the  best  thing,"  she  said. 
"I'll  fix  old  Brossard  now.  Jack  and  I  have 
played  ghost  many  a  time,  and  have  even 
scared  each  other  while  we  were  doing  it, 
because  we  were  so  frightful-looking.  We 
put  long  sheets  all  over  us  and  went  about 
with  pumpkin  jack-o'-lanterns  on  our  heads. 
Oh,  we  looked  awful,  all  in  white,  with  fire 
shining  out  of  those  hideous  eyes  and  mouths. 
If  I  knew  when  Brossard  was  likely  to  whip 
you  again,  I'd  suddenly  appear  on  the  scene 


IO6      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

and  shriek  out  like  a  banshee  and  make  him 
stop.  Wouldn't  it  be  lovely  ? "  she  cried, 
more  carried  away  with  the  idea  the  longer 
she  thought  of  it.  "  Why,  it  would  be  like 
acting  our  fairy  story.  You  are  the  Prince, 
and  I  will  be  the  giant  scissors  and  rescue 
you  from  the  Ogre.  Now  let  me  see  if  I 
can  think  of  a  rhyme  for  you  to  say  when- 
ever you  need  me." 

Joyce  put  her  hands  over  her  ears  and  began 
to  mumble  something  that  had  no  meaning 
whatever  for  Jules  :  "  Ghost  —  post  —  roast  — 
toast,  —  no  that  will  never  do  ;  need  —  speed 
deed,  —  no  !  Help  —  yelp  (I  wish  I  could  make 
him  yelp), — friend  —  spend  —  lend,  —  that's  it. 
I  shall  try  that." 

There  was  a  long  silence,  during  which  Joyce 
whispered  to  herself  with  closed  eyes.  "Now 
I've  got  it,"  she  announced,  triumphantly,  "and 
it's  every  bit  as  good  as  Cousin  Kate's : 

"  Giant  scissors,  fearless  friend, 
Hasten,  pray,  thy  aid  to  lend. 

"  If  you  could  just  say  that  loud  enough  for 

me  to  hear  I'd  come  rushing  in  and  save  you." 

Jules  repeated  the  rhyme  several  times,  until 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  1 07 

he  was  sure  that  he  could  remember  it,  and 
then  Joyce  stood  up  to  go. 

"  Good-by,  fearless  friend,"  said  Jules.  "I 
wish  I  were  brave  like  you."  Joyce  smiled 
in  a  superior  sort  of  way,  much  flattered  by 
the  new  title.  Going  home  across  the  field 
she  held  her  head  a  trifle  higher  than  usual, 
and  carried  on  an  imaginary  conversation  with 
Brossard,  in  which  she  made  him  quail  before 
her  scathing  rebukes. 

Joyce  did  not  take  her  usual  walk  that  after- 
noon. She  spent  the  time  behind  locked  doors 
busy  with  paste,  scissors,  and  a  big  muff-box, 
the  best  foundation  she  could  find  for  a  jack- 
o'-lantern.  First  she  covered  the  box  with 
white  paper  and  cut  a  hideous  face  in  one 
side,  —  great  staring  eyes,  and  a  frightful 
grinning  mouth.  With  a  bit  of  wire  she 
fastened  a  candle  inside  and  shut  down  the 
lid. 

"  Looks  too  much  like  a  box  yet,"  she  said, 
after  a  critical  examination.  "  It  needs  some 
hair  and  a  beard.  Wonder  what  I  can  make 
it  of."  She  glanced  all  around  the  room  for  a 
suggestion,  and  then  closed  her  eyes  to  think. 
Finally  she  went  over  to  her  bed,  and,  turning 


IO8      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

the  covers  back  from  one  corner,  began  ripping 
a  seam  in  the  mattress.  When  the  opening 
was  wide  enough  she  put  in  her  thumb  and 
finger  and  pulled  out  a  handful  of  the  curled 
hair.  "  I  can  easily  put  it  back  when  I  have 
used  it,  and  sew  up  the  hole 
in  the  mattress,"  she  said  to 
her  conscience.  "  My  !  This 
is  exactly  what  I  needed." 
The  hair  was  mixed, 
white  and  black, 
coarse  and  curly  as 
a  negro's  wool. 

She  covered  the  top 
of  the  pasteboard  head 
with  it,  and  was  so 
pleased  that  she  added 
long  beard  and  fierce 
mustache  to  the  al- 
ready hideous  mouth.  When  that  was  all 
done  she  took  it  into  a  dark  closet  and 
lighted  the  candle.  The  monster's  head 
glared  at  her  from  the  depth  of  the  closet, 
and  she  skipped  back  and  forth  in  front  of  it, 
wringing  her  hands  in  delight. 

"  Oh,  if  Jack  could  only  see  it !     If  he  could 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  IOQ 

only  see  it !  "  she  kept  exclaiming.  "  It  is 
better  than  any  pumpkin  head  we  ever  made, 
and  scary  enough  to  throw  old  Brossard  into  a 
fit.  I  can  hardly  wait  until  it  is  dark  enough 
to  go  over." 

Meanwhile  the  short  winter  day  drew  on 
towards  the  close.  Jules,  out  in  the  field  with 
the  goats,  walked  back  and  forth,  back  and  forth, 
trying  to  keep  warm.  Brossard,  who  had  gone 
five  miles  down  the  Paris  road  to  bargain  about 
some  grain,  sat  comfortably  in  a  little  tobacco 
shop,  with  a  pipe  in  his  mouth  and  a  glass  and 
bottle  on  the  table  at  his  elbow.  Henri  was 
at  home,  still  scrubbing  and  cleaning.  The 
front  of  the  great  house  was  in  order,  with 
even  the  fires  laid  on  all  the  hearths  ready 
for  lighting.  Now  he  was  scrubbing  the  back 
stairs.  His  brush  bumped  noisily  against  the 
steps,  and  the  sound  of  its  scouring  was  nearly 
drowned  by  the  jerky  tune  which  the  old  fellow 
sung  through  his  nose  as  he  worked. 

A  carriage  drove  slowly  down  the  road  and 
stopped  at  the  gate  with  the  scissors  ;  then,  in 
obedience  to  some  command  from  within,  the 
vehicle  drove  on  to  the  smaller  gate  beyond. 
An  old  man  with  white  hair .  and  bristling 


IIO     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

mustache  slowly  alighted.  The  master  had 
come  home.  He  put  out  his  hand  as  if  to 
ring  the  bell,  then  on  second  thought  drew 
a  key  from  his  pocket  and  fitted  it  in  the 
lock.  The  gate  swung  back  and  he  passed 
inside.  The  old  house  looked  gray  and  for- 
bidding in  the  dull  light  of  the  late  afternoon. 
He  frowned  up  at  it,  and  it  frowned  down  on 
him,  standing  there  as  cold  and  grim  as  itself. 
That  was  his  only  welcome. 

The  doors  and  windows  were  all  shut,  so 
that  he  caught  only  a  faint  sound  of  the 
bump,  thump  of  the  scrubbing-brush  as  it 
accompanied  Henri's  high-pitched  tune  down 
the  back  stairs. 

Without  giving  any  warning  of  his  arrival,  he 
motioned  the  man  beside  the  jo?chman  to  fol- 
low with  his  trunk,  and  silently  ed  the  way 
up-stairs.  When  the  trunk  had  been  unstrapped 
and  the  man  had  departed,  monsieui  gave  one 
slow  glance  all  around  the  room.  It  was  in 
perfect  readiness  for  him.  He  set  a  match  to 
the  kindling  laid  in  the  grate,  and  then  closed 
the  door  into  the  hall.  The  master  had  come 
home  again,  more  silent,  more  mysterious  in 
his  movements  than  before. 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  Ill 

Henri  finished  his  scrubbing  and  his  song, 
and,  going  down  into  the  kitchen,  began  prep- 
arations for  supper.  A  long  time  after,  Jules 
came  up  from  the  field,  put  the  goats  in 
their  place,  and  crept  in  behind  the  kitchen 
stove. 

Then  it  was  that  Joyce,  from  her  watch-tower 
of  her  window,  saw  Brossard  driving  home  in 
the  market-cart.  "Maybe  I'll  have  a  chance 
to  scare  him  while  he  is  putting  the  horse  up 
and  feeding  it,"  she  thought.  It  was  in  the 
dim  gloaming  when  she  could  easily  slip  along 
by  the  hedges  without  attracting  attention. 
Bareheaded,  and  in  breathless  haste  to  reach 
the  barn  before  Brossard,  she  ran  down  the 
road,  keeping  close  to  the  hedge,  along  which 
the  wind  raced  also,  blowing  the  dead  leaves 
almost  as  high  as  her  head. 

Slipping  through  a  hole  in  the  hedge,  just 
as  Brossard  drove  in  at  the  gate,  she  ran  into 
the  barn  and  crouched  down  behind  the  door, 
There  she  wrapped  herself  in  the  sheet  that  she 
had  brought  with  her  for  the  purpose,  and  pro- 
ceeded to  strike  a  match  to  light  the  lantern. 
The  first  one  flickered  and  went  out.  The 
second  did  the  same.  Brossard  was  calling 


112      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

angrily  for  Jules  now,  and  she  struck  another 
match  in  nervous  haste,  this  time  touching  the 
wick  with  it  before  the  wind  could  interfere. 
Then  she  drew  her  dress  over  the  lantern  to 
hide  the  light. 

"Wouldn't  Jack  enjoy  this,"  she  thought, 
with  a  daring  little  giggle  that  almost  betrayed 
her  hiding-place. 

"  I  tell  thee  it  is  thy  fault,"  cried  Brossard's 
angry  voice,  drawing  nearer  the  barn. 

"  But  I  tried,"  began  Jules,  timidly. 

His  trembling  excuse  was  interrupted  by 
Brossard,  who  had  seized  him  by  the  arm. 
They  were  now  on  the  threshold  of  the  barn, 
which  was  as  dark  as  a  pocket  inside. 

Joyce,  peeping  through  the  crack  of  the  door, 
saw  the  man's  arm  raised  in  the  dim  twilight 
outside.  "  Oh,  he  is  really  going  to  beat  him," 
she  thought,  turning  faint  at  the  prospect.  Then 
her  indignation  overcame  every  other  feeling  as 
she  heard  a  heavy  halter-strap  whiz  through  the 
air  and  fall  with  a  sickening  blow  across  Jules's 
shoulders.  She  had  planned  a  scene  something 
like  this  while  she  worked  away  at  the  lantern 
that  afternoon.  Now  she  felt  as  if  she  were 
acting  a  part  in  some  private  theatrical  perform- 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  113 

ance.  Jules' s  cry  gave  her  the  cue,  and  the 
courage  to  appear. 

As  the  second  blow  fell  across  Jules's  smart- 
ing shoulders,  a  low,  blood-curdling  wail  came 
from  the  dark  depths  of  the  barn.  Joyce  had 
not  practised  that  dismal  moan  of  a  banshee  to 
no  purpose  in  her  ghost  dances  at  home  with 
Jack.  It  rose  and  fell  and  quivered  and  rose 
again  in  cadences  of  horror.  There  was  some- 
thing awful,  something  inhuman,  in  that  fiendish, 
long-drawn  shriek. 

Brossard's  arm  fell  to  his  side  paralyzed  with 
fear,  as  that  same  hoarse  voice  cried,  solemnly  : 
"  Brossard,  beware  !  Beware  !  "  But  worse  than 
that  voice  of  sepulchral  warning  was  the  white- 
sheeted  figure,  coming  towards  him  with  a  wav- 
ering, ghostly  motion,  fire  shooting  from  the 
demon-like  eyes,  and  flaming  from  the  hideous 
mouth. 

Brossard  sank  on  his  knees  in  a  shivering 
heap,  and  began  crossing  himself.  His  hair 
was  upright  with  horror,  and  his  tongue  stiff. 
Jules  knew  who  it  was  that  danced  around 
them  in  such  giddy  circles,  first  darting  towards 
them  with  threatening  gestures,  and  then  glid- 
ing back  to  utter  one  of  those  awful,  sickening 


114     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

wails.  He  knew  that  under  that  fiery  head  and 
wrapped  in  that  spectral  dress  was  his  "  f eai Cess 
friend,"  who,  according  to  promise,  had  hastened 
her  aid  to  lend  ;  nevertheless,  he  was  afraid  of 
her  himself.  He  had  never  imagined  that 
anything  could  look  so  terrifying. 

The  wail  reached  Henri's  ears  and  aroused 
his  curiosity.  Cautiously  opening  the  kitchen 
door,  he  thrust  out  his  head,  and  then  nearly 
fell  backward  in  his  haste  to  draw  it  in  again 
and  slam  the  door.  One  glimpse  of  the 
ghost  in  the  barnyard  was  quite  enough  for 
Henri. 

Altogether  the  performance  probably  did  not 
last  longer  than  a  minute,  but  each  of  the  sixty 
seconds  seemed  endless  to  Brossard.  With  a 
final  die-away  moan  Joyce  glided  towards  the 
gate,  delighted  beyond  measure  with  her  suc- 
cess ;  but  her  delight  did  not  last  long.  Just 
as  she  turned  the  corner  of  the  house,  some 
one  standing  in  the  shadow  of  it  clutched  her. 
A  strong  arm  was  thrown  around  her,  and  a 
firm  hand  snatched  the  lantern,  and  tore  the 
sheet  away  from  her  face. 

It  was  Joyce's  turn  to  be  terrified.  "  Let  me 
go  !  "  she  shrieked,  in  English.  With  one  des- 


"'BROSSARD,  BEWARE!  BEWARE  1"' 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  1 1/ 

perate  wrench  she  broke  away,  and  by  the  light 
of  the  grinning  jack-o'-lantern  saw  who  was  her 
captor.  She  was  face  to  face  with  Monsieur 
Ciseaux. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?  "  he  asked,  severely. 
"  Why  do  you  come  masquerading  here  to 
frighten  my  servants  in  this  manner  ? " 

For  an  instant  Joyce  stood  speechless.  Her 
boasted  courage  had  forsaken  her.  It  was  only 
for  an  instant,  however,  for  the  rhyme  that 
she  had  made  seemed  to  sound  in  her  ears  as 
distinctly  as  if  Jules  were  calling  to  her : 

"  Giant  scissors,  fearless  friend, 
Hasten,  pray,  thy  aid  to  lend." 

"I  will  be  a  fearless  friend,"  she  thought. 
Looking  defiantly  up  into  the  angry  face  she 
demanded  :  "  Then  why  do  you  keep  such  ser- 
vants ?  I  came  because  they  needed  to  be 
frightened,  and  I'm  glad  you  caught  me,  for  I 
told  Jules  that  I  should  tell  you  about  them  as 
soon  as  you  got  home.  Brossard  has  starved 
and  beaten  him  like  a  dog  ever  since  he  has 
been  here.  I  just  hope  that  you  will  look  at 
the  stripes  and  bruises  on  his  poor  little  back. 
He  begged  me  not  to  tell,  for  Brossard  said  you 


Il8      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

would  likely  drive  him  away,  as  you  did  your 
brother  and  sister.  But  even  if  you  do,  the 
neighbors  say  that  an  orphan  asylum  would  be 
a  far  better  home  for  Jules  than  this  has  been. 
I  hope  you'll  excuse  me,  monsieur,  I  truly  do, 
but  I'm  an  American,  and  I  can't  stand  by  and 
keep  still  when  I  see  anybody  being  abused, 
even  if  I  am  a  girl,  and  it  isn't  polite  for  me  to 
talk  so  to  older  people." 

Joyce  fired  out  the  words  as  if  they  had  been 
bullets,  and  so  rapidly  that  monsieur  could 
scarcely  follow  her  meaning.  Then,  having 
relieved  her  mind,  and  fearing  that  maybe  she 
had  been  rude  in  speaking  so  forcibly  to  such 
an  old  gentleman,  she  very  humbly  begged  his 
pardon.  Before  he  could  recover  from  her 
rapid  change  in  manner  and  her  torrent  of 
words,  she  reached  out  her  hand,  saying,  in  the 
meekest  of  little  voices,  "  And  will  you  please 
give  me  back  those  things,  monsieur  ?  The 
sheet  is  Madame  Greville's,  and  I've  got  to 
stuff  that  hair  back  in  the  mattress  to-night." 

Monsieur  gave  them  to  her,  still  too  aston- 
ished for  words.  He  had  never  before  heard 
any  child  speak  in  such  a  way.  This  one 
seemed  more  like  a  wild,  uncanny  little  sprite 


JOYCE    PLAYS    GHOST.  IIQ 

than  like  any  of  the  little  girls  he  had  known 
heretofore.  Before  he  could  recover  from  his 
bewilderment,  Joyce  had  gone.  "  Good  night, 
monsieur,"  she  called,  as  the  gate  clanged 
behind  her. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

OLD    "  NUMBER    THIRTY  -  ONE." 

No  sooner  had  the  gate  closed  upon  the 
subdued  little  ghost,  shorn  now  of  its  terrors, 
than  the  old  man  strode  forward  to  the  place 
where  Brossard  crouched  in  the  straw,  still 
crossing  himself.  This  sudden  appearance  of 
his  master  at  such  a  time  only  added  to  Bros- 
sard's  fright.  As  for  Jules,  his  knees  shook 
until  he  could  scarcely  stand. 

Henri,  his  curiosity  lending  him  courage, 
cautiously  opened  the  kitchen  door  to  peer  out 
again.  Emboldened  by  the  silence,  he  flung 
the  door  wide  open,  sending  a  broad  stream  of 
lamplight  across  the  little  group  in  the  barnyard. 
Without  a  word  of  greeting  monsieur  laid  hold 
of  the  trembling  Jules  and  drew  him  nearer 
the  door.  Throwing  open  the  child's  blouse, 
he  examined  the  thin  little  shoulders,  which 


OLD    "NUMBER    THIRTY  -  ONE.' 


121 


shrank   away  as    if   to   dodge   some   expected 
blow. 

"Go  to  my  room,"  was  all  the  old  man  said 
to  him.     Then  he  turned  fiercely  towards  Bros- 


sard.  His  angry  tones  reached  Jules  even  after 
he  had  mounted  the  stairs  and  closed  the  door. 
The  child  crept  close  to  the  cheerful  fire,  and, 
crouching  down  on  the  rug,  waited  in  a  shiver 
of  nervousness  for  his  uncle's  step  on  the 
stair. 


122      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Meanwhile,  Joyce,  hurrying  home  all  a-tingle 
with  the  excitement  of  her  adventure,  wondered 
anxiously  what  would  be  the  result  of  it.  Under 
cover  of  the  dusk  she  slipped  into  the  house  un- 
observed. There  was  barely  time  to  dress  for 
dinner.  When  she  made  her  appearance  mon- 
sieur complimented  her  unusually  red  cheeks. 

"Doubtless  mademoiselle  has  had  a  fine 
promenade,"  he  said. 

"No,"  answered  Joyce,  with  a  blush  that 
made  them  redder  still,  and  that  caused  ma 
dame  to  look  at  her  so  keenly  that  she  felt 
those  sharp  eyes  must  be  reading  her  inmost 
thoughts.  It  disturbed  her  so  that  she  upset 
the  salt,  spilled  a  glass  of  water,  and  started  to 
eat  her  soup  with  a  fork.  She  glanced  in  an 
embarrassed  way  from  madame  to  monsieur, 
and  gave  a  nervous  little  laugh. 

"The  little  mademoiselle  has  been  in  mis- 
chief again,"  remarked  monsieur,  with  a  smile. 
"  What  is  it  this  time  ?  " 

The  smile  was  so  encouraging  that  Joyce's 
determination  not  to  tell  melted  away,  and  she 
began  a  laughable  account  of  the  afternoon's 
adventure.  At  first  both  the  old  people  looked 
.shocked.  Monsieur  shrugged  his  shoulders  and 


OLD    "NUMBER    THIRTY -ONE."  123 

pulled  his  gray  beard  thoughtfully.  Madame 
threw  up  her  hands  at  the  end  of  each  sen- 
tence like  horrified  little  exclamation  points. 
But  when  Joyce  had  told  the  entire  story 
neither  of  them  had  a  word  of  blame,  because 
their  sympathies  were  so  thoroughly  aroused 
for  Jules. 

"  I  shall  ask  Monsieur  Ciseaux  to  allow  the 
child  to  visit  here  sometimes,"  said  madame, 
her  kind  old  heart  full  of  pity  for  the  mother- 
less little  fellow ;  "  and  I  shall  also  explain  that 
it  was  only  your  desire  to  save  Jules  from 
ill  treatment  that  caused  you  to  do  such  an 
unusual  thing.  Otherwise  he  might  think  you 
too  bold  and  too  —  well,  peculiar,  to  be  a  fit 
playmate  for  his  little  nephew." 

"  Oh,  was  it  really  so  improper  and  horrid  of 
me,  madame  ?  "  asked  Joyce,  anxiously. 

Madame  hesitated.  "  The  circumstances  were 
some  excuse,"  she  finally  admitted.  "But  I 
certainly  should  not  want  a  little  daughter  of 
mine  to  be  out  after  dark  by  herself  on  such 
a  wild  errand.  In  this  country  a  little  girl 
would  not  think  it  possible  to  do  such  a  thing." 

Joyce's  face  was  very  sober  as  she  arose  to 
leave  the  room.  "I  do  wish  that  I  could  be 


124     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

proper  like  little  French  girls,"  she  said,  with 
a  sigh. 

Madame  drew  her  towards  her,  kissing  her 
on  both  cheeks.  It  was  such  an  unusual  thing 
for  madame  to  do  that  Joyce  could  scarcely 
help  showing  some  surprise.  Feeling  that  the 
caress  was  an  assurance  that  she  was  not  in 
disgrace,  as  she  had  feared,  she  ran  up-stairs, 
so  light-hearted  that  she  sang  on  the  way. 

As  the  door  closed  behind  her,  monsieur 
reached  for  his  pipe,  saying,  as  he  did  so,  "  She 
has  a  heart  of  gold,  the  little  mademoiselle." 

"Yes,"  assented  madame;  "but  she  is  a 
strange  little  body,  so  untamed  and  original. 
I  am  glad  that  her  cousin  returns  soon,  for  the 
responsibility  is  too  great  for  my  old  shoulders. 
One  never  knows  what  she  will  do  next." 

Perhaps  it  was  for  this  reason  that  madame 
took  Joyce  with  her  when  she  went  to  Tours 
next  day.  She  felt  safer  when  the  child  was 
in  her  sight. 

"  It  is  so  much  nicer  going  around  with  you 
than  Marie,"  said  Joyce,  giving  madame  an 
affectionate  little  pat,  as  they  stood  before  the 
entrance  of  a  great  square  building,  awaiting 
admission.  "You  take  me  to  places  that  I 


OLD    "NUMBER  THIRTY  -  ONE."  1 25 

have  never  seen  before.  What  place  is  this  ? " 
She  stooped  to  read  the  inscription  on  the 
dooi -plate: 

"LITTLE    SISTERS    OF    THE    POOR." 

Before  her  question  could  be  answered,  the 
door  was  opened  by  a  wrinkled  old  woman,  in  a 
nodding  white  cap,  who  led  them  into  a  recep- 
tion-room at  the  end  of  the  hall. 

"Ask  for  Sister  Denisa,"  said  madame,  "and 
give  her  my  name." 

The  old  woman  shuffled  out  of  the  room, 
and  madame,  taking  a  small  memorandum  book 
from  her  pocket,  began  to  study  it.  Joyce  sat 
looking  about  her  with  sharp,  curious  glances. 
She  wondered  if  these  little  sisters  of  the  poor 
were  barefoot  beggar  girls,  who  went  about  the 
streets  with  ragged  shawls  over  their  heads, 
and  with  baskets  in  their  hands.  In  her  lively 
imagination  she  pictured  row  after  row  of  such 
unfortunate  children,  marching  out  in  the  morn- 
ing, empty-handed,  and  creeping  back  at  night 
with  the  results  of  the  day's  begging.  She  did 
not  like  to  ask  about  them,  however,  and,  in  a 
few  minutes,  her  curiosity  was  satisfied  without 
the  use  of  questions. 


126     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GlANT    SCISSORS. 

Sister  Denisa  entered  the  room.  She  was  a 
beautiful  woman,  in  the  plain  black  habit  and 
white  head-dress  of  a  sister  of  charity. 

"  Oh,  they're  nuns ! "  exclaimed  Joyce,  in  a 
disappointed  whisper.  She  had  been  hoping  to 
see  the  beggar  girls.  She  had  often  passed  the 
convent  in  St.  Symphorien,  and  caught  glimpses 
of  the  nuns,  through  the  high  barred  gate.  She 
had  wondered  how  it  must  feel  to  be  shut  away 
from  the  world ;  to  see  only  the  patient  white 
faces  of  the  other  sisters,  and  to  walk  with 
meekly  folded  hands  and  downcast  eyes  always 
in  the  same  old  paths. 

But  Sister  Denisa  was  different  from  the 
nuns  that  she  had  seen  before.  Some  inward 
joy  seemed  to  shine  through  her  beautiful  face 
and  make  it  radiant.  She  laughed  often,  and 
there  was  a  happy  twinkle  in  her  clear,  gray 
eyes.  When  she  came  into  the  room,  she 
seemed  to  bring  the  outdoors  with  her,  there 
was  such  sunshine  and  fresh  air  in  the  cheeri- 
ness  of  her  greeting. 

Madame  had  come  to  visit  an  old  pensioner 
of  hers  who  was  in  the  home.  After  a  short 
conversation,  Sister  Denisa  rose  to  lead  the 
way  to  her.  "Would  the  little  mademoiselle 


JOYCE  AND   SISTER    DENISA. 


OLD    "NUMBER    THIRTY -ONE."  129 

like  to  go  through  the  house  while  madame 
is  engaged?"  asked  the  nun. 

"  Oh,  yes,  thank  you,"  answered  Joyce,  who 
had  found  by  this  time  that  this  home  was  not 
for  little  beggar  girls,  but  for  old  men  and 
women.  Joyce  had  known  very  few  old  people 
in  her  short  life,  except  her  Grandmother  Ware ; 
and  this  grandmother  was  one  of  those  dear, 
sunny  old  souls,  whom  everybody  loves  to 
claim,  whether  they  are  in  the  family  or  not. 
Some  of  Joyce's  happiest  days  had  been  spent 
in  her  grandmother's  country  home,  and  the 
host  of  happy  memories  that  she  had  stored 
up  during  those  visits  served  to  sweeten  all 
her  after  life. 

Old  age,  to  Joyce,  was  associated  with  the 
most  beautiful  things  that  she  had  ever  known  : 
the  warmest  hospitality,  the  tenderest  love,  the 
cheeriest  home-life.  Strangers  were  in  the  old 
place  now,  and  Grandmother  Ware  was  no 
longer  living,  but,  for  her  sake,  Joyce  held 
sacred  every  wrinkled  face  set  round  with 
snow-white  hair,  just  as  she  looked  tenderly 
on  all  old-fashioned  flowers,  because  she  had 
seen  them  first  in  her  grandmother's  garden. 

Sister  Denisa  led  the  way  into  a  large,  sunny 


I3O     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

room,  and  Joyce  looked  around  eagerly.  It 
was  crowded  with  old  men.  Some  were  sit- 
ting idly  on  the  benches  around  the  walls,  or 
dozing  in  chairs  near  the  stove.  Some  smoked, 
some  gathered  around  the  tables  where  games 
of  checkers  and  chess  were  going  on ;  some 
gazed  listlessly  out  of  the  windows.  It  was 
good  to  see  how  dull  faces  brightened,  as 
Sister  Denisa  passed  by  with  a  smile  for  this 
group,  a  cheery  word  for  the  next.  She 
stopped  to  brush  the  hair  back  from  the  fore- 
head of  an  old  paralytic,  and  pushed  another 
man  gently  aside,  when  he  blocked  the  way, 
with  such  a  sweet-voiced  "  Pardon,  little  father," 
that  it  was  like  a  caress.  One  white-haired  old 
fellow,  in  his  second  childhood,  reached  out  and 
caught  at  her  dress,  as  she  passed  by. 

Crossing  a  porch  where  were  more  old  men 
sitting  sadly  alone,  or  walking  sociably  up  and 
down  in  the  sunshine,  Sister  Denisa  passed 
along  a  court  and  held  the  door  open  for  Joyce 
to  enter  another  large  room. 

"  Here  is  the  rest  of  our  family,"  she  said. 
"  A  large  one,  is  it  not  ?  Two  hundred  poor 
old  people  that  nobody  wants,  and  nobody 
cares  what  becomes  of." 


OLD  "  NUMBER  THIRTY  -  ONE."         1 3 1 

Joyce  looked  around  the  room  and  saw  on 
every  hand  old  age  that  had  nothing  beautiful, 
nothing  attractive.  "  Were  they  beggars  when 
they  were  little  ?  "  she  asked. 

"No,  indeed,"  answered  the  nun.  "That  is 
the  saddest  part  of  it  to  me.  Nearly  all  these 
poor  creatures  you  see  here  once  had  happy 
homes  of  their  own.  That  pitiful  old  body 
over  by  the  stove,  shaking  with  palsy,  was 
once  a  gay,  rich  countess  ;  the  invalid  whom 
madame  visits  was  a  marquise.  It  would  break 
your  heart,  mademoiselle,  to  hear  the  stories  of 
some  of  these  people,  especially  those  who  have 
been  cast  aside  by  ungrateful  children,  to  whom 
their  support  has  become  a  burden.  Several  of 
these  women  have  prosperous  grandchildren,  to 
whom  we  have  appealed  in  vain.  There  is  no 
cruelty  that  hurts  me  like  such  cruelty  to  old 
age." 

Just  then  another  nun  came  into  the  room,  said 
something  to  Sister  Denisa  in  a  low  voice,  and 
glided  out  like  a  silent  shadow,  her  rosary  sway- 
ing back  and  forth  with  every  movement  of  her 
clinging  black  skirts.  "  I  am  needed  up-stairs," 
said  Sister  Denisa,  turning  to  Joyce.  "  Will 
you  come  up  and  see  the  sleeping-rooms  ? " 


132      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

They  went  up  the  freshly  scrubbed  steps  to 
a  great  dormitory,  where,  against  the  bare  walls, 
stood  long  rows  of  narrow  cots.  They  were  all 
empty,  except  one  at  the  farthest  end,  where 
an  old  woman  lay  with  her  handkerchief  across 
her  eyes. 

"Poor  old  Number  Thirty-one!"  said  Sister 
Denisa.  "  She  seems  to  feel  her  unhappy 
position  more  than  any  one  in  the  house. 
The  most  of  them  are  thankful  for  mere 
bodily  comfort,  —  satisfied  with  food  and  shel- 
ter and  warmth  ;  but  she  is  continually  pining 
for  her  old  home  surroundings.  Will  you  not 
eome  and  speak  to  her  in  English  ?  She  mar- 
ried a  countryman  of  yours,  and  lived  over 
thirty  years  in  America.  She  speaks  of  that 
time  as  the  happiest  in  her  life.  I  am  sure 
that  you  can  give  her  a  great  deal  of  pleasure." 

"  Is  she  ill  ?  "  said  Joyce,  timidly  drawing 
back  as  the  nun  started  across  the  room. 

"  No,  I  think  not,"  was  the  answer.  "  She 
says  she  can't  bear  to  be  herded  in  one  room 
with  all  those  poor  creatures,  like  a  flock  of 
sheep,  with  nothing  to  do  but  wait  for  death. 
She  has  always  been  accustomed  to  having  a 
room  of  her  own,  so  that  her  greatest  trial  is 


OLD   "NUMBER    THIRTY  -  ONE.  133 

in  having  no  privacy.  She  must  eat,  sleep,  and 
live  with  a  hundred  other  old  women  always 
around  her.  She  comes  up  here  to  bed  when- 
ever she  can  find  the  slightest  ache  for  an 
excuse,  just  to  be  by  herself.  I  wish  that 
we  could  give  her  a  little  spot  that  she  could 
call  her  own,  and  shut  the  door  on,  and  feel 
alone.  But  it  cannot  be,"  she  added,  with  a 
sigh.  "  It  taxes  our  strength  to  the  utmost  to 
give  them  all  even  a  bare  home." 

By  this  time  they  had  reached  the  cot,  over 
the  head  of  which  hung  a  card,  bearing  the 
number  "Thirty-one." 

"  Here  is  a  little  friend  to  see  you,  grand- 
mother," said  Sister  Denisa,  placing  a  chair  by 
the  bedside,  and  stooping  to  smooth  back  the 
locks  of  silvery  hair  that  had  strayed  out  from 
under  the  coarse  white  night-cap.  Then  she 
passed  quickly  on  to  her  other  duties,  leaving 
Joyce  to  begin  the  conversation  as  best  she 
could.  The  old  woman  looked  at  her  sharply 
with  piercing  dark  eyes,  which  must  have  been 
beautiful  in  their  youth.  The  intense  gaze 
embarrassed  Joyce,  and  to  break  the  silence 
she  hurriedly  stammered  out  the  first  thing 
that  came  to  her  mind. 


134     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

"  Are  you  ill,  to-day  ? " 

The  simple  question  had  a  startling  effect  on 
the   old  woman.      She   raised  herself  on   one 


elbow,  and  reached  out  for  Joyce's  hand,  draw- 
ing her  eagerly  nearer.  "  Ah,"  she  cried,  "  you 
speak  the  language  that  my  husband  taught 
me  to  love,  and  the  tongue  my  little  children 


OLD    "NUMBER    THIRTY  -  ONE."  135 

lisped  ;  but  they  are  all  dead  now,  and  I've 
come  back  to  my  native  land  to  find  no  home 
but  the  one  that  charity  provides." 

Her  words  ended  in  a  wail,  and  she  sank 
back  on  her  pillow.  "  And  this  is  my  birth- 
day," she  went  on.  "  Seventy-three  years 
old,  and  a  pauper,  cast  out  to  the  care  of 
strangers." 

The  tears  ran  down  her  wrinkled  cheeks,  and 
her  mouth  trembled  pitifully.  Joyce  was  dis- 
tressed;  she  looked  around  for  Sister  Denisa, 
but  saw  that  they  were  alone,  they  two,  in  the 
great  bare  dormitory,  with  its  long  rows  of 
narrow  white  cots.  The  child  felt  utterly  help- 
less to  speak  a  word  of  comfort,  although  she 
was  so  sorry  for  the  poor  lonely  old  creature 
that  she  began  to  cry  softly  to  herself.  She 
leaned  over,  and  taking  one  of  the  thin,  blue- 
veined  hands  in  hers,  patted  it  tenderly  with 
her  plump  little  fingers. 

"  I  ought  not  to  complain,"  said  the  tremb- 
ling voice,  still  broken  by  sobs.  "  We  have  food 
and  shelter  and  sunshine  and  the  sisters.  Ah, 
that  little  Sister  Denisa,  she  is  indeed  a  smile 
of  God  to  us  all.  But  at  seventy-three  one 
wants  more  than  a  cup  of  coffee  and  a  clean 


136     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

handkerchief.  One  wants  something  besides  a 
bed  and  being  just  Number  Thirty-one  among 
two  hundred  other  paupers." 

"  I  am  so  sorry  !  "  exclaimed  Joyce,  with  such 
heartfelt  earnestness  that  the  sobbing  woman 
felt  the  warmth  of  her  sympathy,  and  looked 
up  with  a  brighter  face. 

"Talk  to  me,"  she  exclaimed.  "  It  has  been 
so  long  since  I  have  heard  your  language." 

While  she  obeyed  Joyce  kept  thinking  of  her 
Grandmother  Ware.  She  could  see  her  out, 
doors  among  her  flowers,  the  dahlias  and  touch- 
me-nots,  the  four-o'clocks  and  the  cinnamon 
roses,  taking  such  pride  and  pleasure  in  her 
sweet  posy  beds.  She  could  see  her  beside  the 
little  table  on  the  shady  porch,  making  tea  for 
some  old  neighbor  who  had  dropped  in  to 
spend  the  afternoon  with  her.  Or  she  was 
asleep  in  her  armchair  by  the  western  window, 
her  Bible  in  her  lap  and  a  smile  on  her 
sweet,  kindly  face.  How  dreary  and  empty  the 
days  must  seem  to  poor  old  Number  Thirty- 
one,  with  none  of  these  things  to  brighten 
them. 

Joyce  could  scarcely  keep  the  tears  out  of 
her  voice  while  she  talked.  Later,  when  Sister 


OLD    ''NUMBER    THIRTY  -  ONE."  137 

Denisa  came  back,  Joyce  was  softly  humming  a 
lullaby,  and  Number  Thirty-one,  with  a  smile 
on  her  pitiful  old  face,  was  sleeping  like  a  little 
child. 

"  You  will  come  again,  dear  mademoiselle," 
said  Sister  Denisa,  as  she  kissed  the  child 
good-by  at  the  door.  "  You  have  brought  a 
blessing,  may  you  carry  one  awa>  as  well !  " 

Joyce  looked  inquiringly  at  madame.  "  You 
may  come  whenever  you  like,"  was  the  answer. 
"Marie  can  bring  you  whenever  you  are  in 
town." 

Joyce  was  so  quiet  on  the  way  home  that 
madame  feared  the  day  had  been  too  fatiguing 
for  her.  "  No,"  said  Joyce,  soberly.  "  I  was  only 
thinking  about  poor  old  Number  Thirty-one. 
I  am  sorrier  for  her  than  I  was  for  Jules.  I 
used  to  think  that  there  was  nothing  so  sad 
as  being  a  little  child  without  any  father  or 
mother,  and  having  to  live  in  an  asylum.  I've 
often  thought  how  lovely  it  would  be  to  go 
around  and  find  a  beautiful  home  for  every 
little  orphan  in  the  world.  But  I  believe,  now, 
that  it  is  worse  to  be  old  that  way.  Old  peo- 
ple can't  play  together,  and  they  haven't  any- 
thing to  look  forward  to,  and  it  makes  them  so 


138      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

miserable  to  remember  all  the  things  they  have 
had  and  lost.  If  I  had  enough  money  to  adopt 
anybody,  I  would  adopt  some  poor  old  grand- 
father or  grandmother  and  make'm  happy  all 
the  rest  of  their  days," 


CHAPTER  VIII. 

CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT. 

THAT  night,  when  Marie  came  in  to  light  the 
lamps  and  brush  Joyce's  hair  before  dinner,  she 
had  some  news  to  tell. 

"  Brossard  has  been  sent  away  from  the  Ci- 
seaux  place,"  she  said.  "  A  new  man  is  com- 
ing to-morrow,  and  my  friend,  Clotilde  Robard, 
has  already  taken  the  position  of  housekeeper. 
She  says  that  a  very  different  life  has  begun 
for  little  Monsieur  Jules,  and  that  in  his  fine 
new  clothes  one  could  never  recognize  the 
little  goatherd.  He  looks  now  like  what  he 
is,  a  gentleman's  son.  He  has  the  room  next 
to  monsieur's,  all  freshly  furnished,  and  after 
New  Year  a  tutor  is  coming  from  Paris. 

"  But  they  say  that  it  is  pitiful  to  see  how 
greatly  the  child  fears  his  uncle.  He  does  not 
understand  the  old  man's  cold,  forbidding  man- 
ner, and  it  provokes  monsieur  to  have  the 
139 


I4O      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

little  one  tremble  and  grow  pale  whenever  he 
speaks.  Clotilde  says  that  Madame  Greville 
told  monsieur  that  the  boy  needed  games  and 
young  companions  to  make  him  more  likf 
other  children,  and  he  promised  her  that  Mon 
sieur  Jules  should  come  over  here  to-morrov 
afternoon  to  play  with  you." 

"  Oh,  good  !  "  cried  Joyce.  "  We'll  have 
another  barbecue  if  the  day  is  fine.  I  am  so 
glad  that  we  do  not  have  to  be  bothered  any 
more  by  those  tiresome  old  goats." 

By  the  time  the  next  afternoon  arrived,  how- 
ever, Joyce  was  far  too  much  interested  in  some- 
thing else  to  think  of  a  barbecue.  Cousin  Kate 
had  come  back  from  Paris  with  a  trunk  full  of 
pretty  things,  and  a  plan  for  the  coming  Christ- 
mas. At  first  she  thought  of  taking  only  ma- 
dame  into  her  confidence,  and  preparing  a  small 
Christmas  tree  for  Joyce ;  but  afterwards  she 
concluded  that  it  would  give  the  child  more 
pleasure  if  she  were  allowed  to  take  part  in  the 
preparations.  It  would  keep  her  from  being 
homesick  by  giving  her  something  else  to  think 
about. 

Then  madame  proposed  inviting  a  few  of 
the  little  peasant  children  who  had  never  seen 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.       14! 


a  Christmas  tree.      The  more  they  discussed 
the   plan    the    larger    it    grew,    like    a    rolling 
snowball.     By  lunch-time  madame   had  a  list 
of   thirty    children,    who  were    to 
be  bidden  to  the  Noel  fete,  and 
Cousin  Kate  had  decided  to  order 
a  tree  tall  enough  to  touch    the 
ceiling. 

When  Jules  came  over,  awkward 
and  shy  with  the  consciousness  of 
his  new  clothes,  he   found  Joyce 
sitting  in  the    midst   of  yards  of 
gaily    colored    tarletan.      It    was 
heaped  up  around  her  in  bright 
masses   of   purple    and    orange 
and  scarlet  and  green,  and  she 
was  making  it  into  candy-bags 
for  the  tree. 

In  a  few  minutes  Jules  had 
forgotten  all  about  himself,  and 
was  as  busy  as  she,  pinning  the 
little  stocking-shaped  patterns 
in  place,  and  carefully  cutting  out  those  fasci- 
nating bags. 

"You  would  be  lots  of  help,"  said  Joyce,  "if 
you  could  come  over  every  day,  for  there's  all 


142      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

the  ornaments  to  unpack,  and  the  corn  to  shell, 
and  pop,  and  string.  It  will  take  most  of  my 
time  to  dress  the  dolls,  and  there's  such  a 
short  time  to  do  everything  in." 

"  You  never  saw  any  pop-corn,  did  you, 
Jules  ?  "  asked  Cousin  Kate.  "  When  I  was 
here  last  time,  I  couldn't  find  it  anywhere 
in  France;  but  the  other  day  a  friend  told 
me  of  a  grocer  in  Paris,  who  imports  it  for 
his  American  customers  every  winter.  So 
I  went  there.  Joyce,  suppose  you  get  the 
popper  and  show  Jules  what  the  corn  is 
like." 

Madame  was  interested  also,  as  she  watched 
the  little  brown  kernels  shaken  back  and  forth 
in  their  wire  cage  over  the  glowing  coals. 
When  they  began  popping  open,  the  little 
seeds  suddenly  turning  into  big  white  blossoms, 
she  sent  Rosalie  running  to  bring  monsieur  to 
see  the  novel  sight. 

"We  can  eat  and  work  at  the  same  time," 
said  Joyce,  as  she  filled  a  dish  with  the  corn, 
and  called  Jules  back  to  the  table,  where  he 
had  been  cutting  tarletan.  "  There's  no  time  to 
lose.  See  what  a  funny  grain  this  is !  "  she 
cried,  picking  up  one  that  lay  on  the  top  of  the 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.        143 

dish.  "It  looks  like  Therese,  the  fishwoman, 
in  her  white  cap." 

"  And  here  is  a  goat's  head,"  said  Jules, 
picking  up  another  grain.  "  And  this  one 
looks  like  a  fat  pigeon." 

He  had  forgotten  his  shyness  entirely  now, 
and  was  laughing  and  talking  as  easily  as  Jack 
could  have  done. 

"Jules,"  said  Joyce,  suddenly,  looking  around 
to  see  that  the  older  people  were  too  busy  with 
their  own  conversation  to  notice  hers.  "  Jules, 
why  don't  you  talk  to  your  Uncle  Martin  the 
way  you  do  to  me  ?  He  would  like  you  lots 
better  if  you  would.  Robard  says  that  you  get 
pale  and  frightened  every  time  he  speaks  to 
you,  and  it  provokes  him  for  you  to  be  so 
timid." 

Jules  dropped  his  eyes.  "  I  cannot  help  it," 
he  exclaimed.  "  He  looks  so  grim  and  cross 
that  my  voice  just  won't  come  out  of  my  throat 
when  I  open  my  mouth." 

Joyce  studied  him  critically,  with  her  head 
tipped  a  little  to  one  side.  "Well,  I  must 
say,"  she  exclaimed,  finally,  "  that,  for  a  boy 
born  in  America,  you  have  the  least  dare  about 
you  of  anybody  I  ever  saw.  Your  Uncle  Mar- 


144      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

tin  isn't  any  grimmer  or  crosser  than  a  man  I 
know  at  home.  There's  Judge  Ward,  so  big 
and  solemn  and  dignified  that  everybody  is 
half  way  afraid  of  him.  Even  grown  people 
have  always  been  particular  about  what  they 
said  to  him. 

"  Last  summer  his  little  nephew,  Charley 
Ward,  came  to  visit  him.  Charley's  just  a 
little  thing,  still  in  dresses,  and  he  calls  his 
uncle,  Bill.  Think  of  anybody  daring  to  call 
Judge  Ward,  Bill!  No  matter  what  the  judge 
was  doing,  or  how  glum  he  looked,  if  Charley 
took  a  notion,  he  would  go  up  and  stand  in 
front  of  him,  and  say,  <  Laugh,  Bill,  laugh  ! '  If 
the  judge  happened  to  be  reading,  he'd  have  to 
put  down  his  book,  and  no  matter  whether  he 
felt  funny  or  not,  or  whether  there  was  any- 
thing to  laugh  at  or  not,  he  would  have  to 
throw  his  head  back  and  just  roar.  Charley 
liked  to  see  his  fat  sides  shake,  and  his  white 
teeth  shine.  I've  heard  people  say  that  the 
judge  likes  Charley  better  than  anybody  else 
in  the  world,  because  he's  the  only  person  who 
acts  as  if  he  wasn't  afraid  of  him." 

Jules  sat  still  a  minute,  considering,  and  then 
asked,  anxiously,  "  But  what  do  you  suppose 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.       145 

would  happen  if  I  should  say  '  Laugh,  Martin, 
laugh,'  to  my  uncle  ?  " 

Joyce  shrugged  her  shoulders  impatiently. 
"  Mercy,  Jules,  I  did  not  mean  that  you  should 
act  like  a  three-year-old  baby.  I  meant  that 
you  ought  to  talk  up  to  your  uncle  some.  Now 
this  is  the  way  you  are."  She  picked  up  a 
kernel  of  the  unpopped  corn,  and  held  it  out 
for  him  to  see.  "You  shut  yourself  up  in  a 
little  hard  ball  like  this,  so  that  your  uncle 
can't  get  acquainted  with  you.  How  can  he 
know  what  is  inside  of  your  head  if  you  always 
shut  up  like  a  clam  whenever  he  comes  near 
you  ?  This  is  the  way  that  you  ought  to  be." 
She  shot  one  of  the  great  white  grains  towards 
him  with  a  deft  flip  of  her  thumb  and  finger. 
"  Be  free  and  open  with  him." 

Jules  put  the  tender  morsel  in  his  mouth 
and  ate  it  thoughtfully.  "  I'll  try,"  he  prom- 
ised, "  if  you  really  think  that  it  would  please 
him,  and  I  can  think  of  anything  to  say.  You 
don't  know  how  I  dread  going  to  the  table 
when  everything  is  always  so  still  that  we  can 
hear  the  clock  tick." 

"Well,  you  take  my  advice,"  said  Joyce. 
"Talk  about  anything.  Tell  him  about  our 


I4O      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Thanksgiving  feast  and  the  Christmas  tree,  and 
ask  him  if  you  can't  come  over  every  day  to 
help.  I  wouldn't  let  anybody  think  that  I  was 
a  coward." 

Joyce's  little  lecture  had  a  good  effect,  and 
monsieur  saw  the  wisdom  of  Madame  Greville's 
advice  when  Jules  came  to  the  table  that  night. 
He  had  brought  a  handful  of  the  wonderful 
corn  to  show  his  uncle,  and  in  the  conversation 
that  it  brought  about  he  unconsciously  showed 
something  else,  —  something  of  his  sensitive 
inner  self  that  aroused  his  uncle's  interest. 

Every  afternoon  of  the  week  that  followed 
found  Jules  hurrying  over  to  Madame  Greville's 
to  help  with  the  Christmas  preparations.  He 
strung  yards  of  corn,  and  measured  out  the 
nuts  and  candy  for  each  of  the  gay  bags. 
Twice  he  went  in  the  carriage  to  Tours  with 
Cousin  Kate  and  Joyce,  to  help  buy  presents 
for  the  thirty  little  guests.  He  was  jostled  by 
the  holiday  shoppers  in  crowded  aisles.  He 
stood  enraptured  in  front  of  wonderful  show 
windows,  and  he  had  the  joy  of  choosing  fifteen 
things  from  piles  of  bright  tin  trumpets,  drums, 
jumping-jacks,  and  picture-books.  Joyce  chose 
the  presents  for  the  girls. 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.        Itf 

The  tree  was  bought  and  set  up  in  a  large 
unused  room  back  of  the  library,  and  as  soon 
as  each  article  was  in  readiness  it  was  carried 
in  and  laid  on  a  table  beside  it.  Jules  used  to 
steal  in  sometimes  and  look  at  the  tapers,  the 
beautiful  colored  glass  balls,  the  gilt  stars  and 
glittering  tinsel,  and  wonder  how  the  stately 
cedar  would  look  in  all  that  array  of  loveliness. 
Everything  belonging  to  it  seemed  sacred, 
even  the  unused  scraps  of  bright  tarletan  and 
the  bits  of  broken  candles.  He  would  not  let 
Marie  sweep  them  up  to  be  burned,  but  gath- 
ered them  carefully  into  a  box  and  carried 
them  home.  There  were  several  things  that 
he  had  rescued  from  her  broom,  —  one  of  those 
beautiful  red  balls,  cracked  on  one  side  it  is 
true,  but  gleaming  like  a  mammoth  red  cherry 
on  the  other.  There  were  scraps  of  tinsel  and 
odds  and  ends  of  ornaments  that  had  been 
broken  or  damaged  by  careless  handling. 
These  he  hid  away  in  a  chest  in  his  room,  as 
carefully  as  a  miser  would  have  hoarded  a  bag 
of  gold. 

Clotilde  Robard,  the  housekeeper,  wondered 
why  she  found  his  candle  burned  so  low  several 
mornings.  She  would  have  wondered  still  more 


148      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

if  she  had  gone  into  his  room  a  while  before 
daybreak.  He  had  awakened  early,  and,  sitting 
up  in  bed  with  the  quilts  wrapped  around  him, 
spread  the  scraps  of  tarletan  on  his  knees. 
He  was  piecing  together  with  his  awkward 
little  fingers  enough  to  make  several  tiny 
bags. 

Henri  missed  his  spade  one  morning,  and 
hunted  for  it  until  he  was  out  of  patience.  It 
was  nowhere  to  be  seen.  Half  an  hour  later, 
coming  back  to  the  house,  he  found  it  hanging 
in  its  usual  place,  where  he  had  looked  for  it  a 
dozen  times  at  least.  Jules  had  taken  it  down  to 
the  woods  to  dig  up  a  little  cedar-tree,  so  little 
that  it  was  not  over  a  foot  high  when  it  was 
planted  in  a  box. 

Clotilde  had  to  be  taken  into  the  secret,  for 
he  could  not  hide  it  from  her.  "  It  is  for  my 
Uncle  Martin,"  he  said,  timidly.  "Do  you 
think  he  will  like  it?" 

The  motherly  housekeeper  looked  at  the 
poor  little  tree,  decked  out  in  its  scraps  of 
cast-off  finery,  and  felt  a  sob  rising  in  her 
throat,  but  she  held  up  her  hands  with  many 
admiring  exclamations  that  made  Jules  glow 
with  pride. 


SITTING   UP    IN    BED    WITH    THE    QUILTS   WRAPPED 
AROUND   HIM," 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.        15! 

•J I  have  no  beautiful  white  strings  of  pop- 
corn to  hang  over  it  like  wreaths  of  snow,"  he 
said,  "  so  I  am  going  down  the  lane  for  some 
mistletoe  that  grows  in  one  of  the  highest 
trees.  The  berries  are  like  lovely  white  wax 
beads." 

"  You  are  a  good  little  lad,"  said  the  house- 
keeper, kindly,  as  she  gave  his  head  an  affec- 
tionate pat.  "I  shall  have  to  make  something 
to  hang  on  that  tree  myself ;  some  gingerbread 
figures,  maybe.  I  used  to  know  how  to  cut 
out  men  and  horses  and  pigs,  —  nearly  all 
the  animals.  I  must  try  it  again  some  day 
soon." 

A  happy  smile  spread  all  over  Jules's  face  as 
he  thanked  her.  The  words,  "You  are  a  good 
little  lad,"  sent  a  warm  glow  of  pleasure  through 
him,  and  rang  like  music  in  his  ears  all  the  way 
down  the  lane.  How  bright  the  world  looked 
this  frosty  December  morning !  What  cheeri- 
ness  there  was  in  the  ring  of  Henri's  axe  as  he 
chopped  away  at  the  stove-wood  !  What  friend- 
liness in  the  baker's  whistle,  as  he  rattled  by  in 
his  big  cart !  Jules  found  himself  whistling,  too, 
for  sheer  gladness,  and  all  because  of  no  more 
kindness  than  might  have  been  thrown  to  a 


152      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

dog ;  a  pat  on  the  head  and  the  words,  "  You 
are  a  good  little  lad." 

Sometime  after,  it  may  have  been  two  hours 
or  more,  Madame  GreVille  was  startled  by  a 
wild,  continuous  ringing  of  the  bell  at  her  front 
gate.  Somebody  was  sending  peal  after  peal 
echoing  through  the  garden,  with  quick,  impa- 
tient jerks  of  the  bell-wire.  She  hurried  out 
herself  to  answer  the  summons. 

Berthe  had  already  shot  back  the  bolt  and 
showed  Clotilde  leaning  against  the  stone 
post,  holding  her  fat  sides  and  completely  ex- 
hausted by  her  short  run  from  the  Ciseaux 
house. 

"Will  madame  send  Gabriel  for  the  doctor?" 
she  cried,  gasping  for  breath  at  every  word. 
"  The  little  Monsieur  Jules  has  fallen  from  a 
tree  and  is  badly  hurt.  We  do  not  know  how 
much,  for  he  is  still  unconscious  and  his  uncle 
is  away  from  home.  Henri  found  him  lying 
under  a  tree  with  a  big  bunch  of  mistletoe  in 
his  arms.  He  carried  him  up-stairs  while  I  ran 
over  to  ask  you  to  send  Gabriel  quickly  on  a 
horse  for  the  doctor." 

"  Gabriel  shall  go  immediately,"  said  Madame 


CHRISTMAS    PLANS    AND    AN    ACCIDENT.       1 53 

GreVille,  "and  I  shall  follow  you  as  soon  as  I 
have  given  the  order." 

Clotilde  started  back  in  as  great  haste  as  her 
weight  would  allow,  puffing  and  blowing  and 
wiping  her  eyes  on  her  apron  at  every  step. 
Madame  overtook  her  before  she  had  gone 
many  rods.  Always  calm  and  self-possessed 
in  every  emergency,  madame  took  command 
now ;  sent  the  weeping  Clotilde  to  look  for 
old  linen,  Henri  to  the  village  for  Monsieur 
Ciseaux,  and  then  turned  her  attention  to  Jules. 

"To  think,"  said  Clotilde,  coming  into  the 
room,  "that  the  last  thing  the  poor  little  lamb 
did  was  to  show  me  his  Christmas  tree  that  he 
was  making  ready  for  his  uncle !  "  She  pointed 
to  the  corner  where  it  stood,  decked  by  awk- 
ward boyish  hands  in  its  pitiful  collection  of 
scraps. 

"Poor  little  fellow!"  said  madame,  with 
tears  in  her  own  eyes.  "  He  has  done  the 
best  he  could.  Put  it  in  the  closet,  Clotilde. 
Jules  would  not  want  it  to  be  seen  before 
Christmas." 

Madame  stayed  until  the  doctor  had  made 
his  visit ;  then  the  report  that  she  carried  home 
was  that  Jules  had  regained  consciousness,  and 


154      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

that,  as  far  as  could  be  discovered,  his  only 
injury  was  a  broken  leg. 

Joyce  took  refuge  in  the  pear-tree.  It  was 
not  alone  because  Jules  was  hurt  that  she 
wanted  to  cry,  but  because  they  must  have 
the  Noel  fete  without  him.  She  knew  how 
bitterly  he  would  be  disappointed. 


CHAPTER   IX. 

A   GREAT    DISCOVERY. 

"  ONLY  two  more  nights  till  Christmas  eve, 
two  more  nights,  two  more  nights,"  sang  Joyce 
to  Jules  in  a  sort  of  chant.  She  was  sitting 
beside  his  bed  with  a  box  in  her  lap,  full  of 
little  dolls,  which  she  was  dressing.  Every  day 
since  his  accident  she  had  been  allowed  to  make 
him  two  visits,  —  one  in  the  morning,  and  one 
in  the  afternoon.  They  helped  wonderfully  in 
shortening  the  long,  tedious  days  for  Jules. 
True,  Madame  GreVille  came  often  with 
broths  and  jellies,  Cousin  Kate  made  flying 
visits  to  leave  rare  hothouse  grapes  and  big 
bunches  of  violets ;  Clotilde  hung  over  him 
with  motherly  tenderness,  and  his  uncle  looked 
into  the  room  many  times  a  day  to  see  that  he 
wanted  nothing. 

Jules's  famished  little  heart  drank  in  all  this 
unusual  kindness  and  attention  as  greedily  as 
'55 


156     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

the  parched  earth  drinks  in  the  rain.  Still,  he 
would  have  passed  many  a  long,  restless  hour, 
had  it  not  been  for  Joyce's  visits. 

She  brought  over  a  photograph  of  the  house 
at  home,  with  the  family  seated  in  a  group  on 
the  front  porch.  Jules  held  it  close  while  she 
introduced  each  one  of  them.  By  the  time  he 
had  heard  all  about  Holland's  getting  lost  the 
day  the  circus  came  to  town,  and  Jack's  taking 
the  prize  in  a  skating  contest,  and  Mary's  set- 
ting her  apron  on  fire,  and  the  baby's  sweet 
little  ways  when  he  said  his  prayers,  or  played 
peek-a-boo,  he  felt  very  well  acquainted  with 
the  entire  Ware  family.  Afterward,  when 
Joyce  had  gone,  he  felt  his  loneliness  more 
than  ever.  He  lay  there,  trying  to  imagine  how 
it  must  feel  to  have  a  mother  and  sisters  and 
brothers  all  as  fond  of  each  other  as  Joyce's 
were,  and  to  live  in  the  midst  of  such  good 
times  as  always  went  on  in  the  little  brown 
house. 

Monsieur  Ciseaux,  sitting  by  his  fire  with  the 
door  open  between  the  two  rooms,  listened  to 
Joyce's  merry  chatter  with  almost  as  much 
interest  as  Jules.  He  would  have  been  ashamed 
to  admit  how  eagerly  he  listened  for  her  step  on 


A    GREAT   DISCOVERY.  157 

the  stairs  every  day,  or  what  longings  wakened 
in  his  lonely  old  heart,  when  he  sat  by  his  love- 
less fireside  after  she  had  gone  home,  and  there 
was  no  more  sound  of  children's  voices  in  the 
next  room. 

There  had  been  good  times  in  the  old 
Ciseaux  house  also,  once,  and  two  little 
brothers  and  a  sister  had  played  in  that  very 
room  ;  but  they  had  grown  up  long  ago,  and 
the  ogre  of  selfishness  and  misunderstanding 
had  stolen  in  and  killed  all  their  happiness. 
Ah,  well,  there  was  much  that  the  world 
would  never  know  about  that  misunderstand- 
ing. There  was  much  to  forgive  and  forget 
on  both  sides. 

Joyce  had  a  different  story  for  each  visit. 
To-day  she  had  just  finished  telling  Jules  the 
fairy  tale  of  which  he  never  tired,  the  tale  of 
the  giant  scissors. 

"  I  never  look  at  those  scissors  over  the 
gate  without  thinking  of  you,"  said  Jules, 
"  and  the  night  when  you  played  that  I  was 
the  Prince,  and  you  came  to  rescue  me." 

"  I  wish  I  could  play  scissors  again,  and 
rescue  somebody  else  that  I  know,"  answered 
Joyce.  "  I'd  take  poor  old  Number  Thirty-one 


158     THE    GATE   OF   THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

away  from  the  home  of  the  Little  Sisters  of 
the  Poor." 

"What's  Number  Thirty-one?  "  asked  Jules. 
"You  never  told  me  about  that." 

'*  Didn't  I  ?  "  asked  Joyce,  in  surprise.  "  She 
is  a  lonely  old  woman  that  the  sisters  take 
care  of.  I  have  talked  about  her  so  often, 
and  written  home  so  much,  that  I  thought  I 
had  told  everybody.  I  can  hardly  keep  from 
crying  whenever  I  think  of  her.  Marie  and  I 
stop  every  day  we  go  into  town  and  take  her 
flowers.  I  have  been  there  four  times  since 
my  first  visit  with  madame.  Sometimes  she 
tells  me  things  that  happened  when  she  was 
a  little  girl  here  in  France,  but  she  talks  to  me 
oftenest  in  English  about  the  time  when  she 
lived  in  America.  I  can  hardly  imagine  that 
she  was  ever  as  young  as  I  am,  and  that  she 
romped  with  her  brothers  as  I  did  with  Jack." 

"Tell  some  of  the  things  that  she  told 
you,"  urged  Jules ;  so  Joyce  began  repeating 
all  that  she  knew  about  Number  Thirty-one. 

It  was  a  pathetic  little  tale  that  brought 
tears  to  Jules's  eyes,  and  a  dull  pain  to  the 
heart  of  the  old  man  who  listened  in  the 
next  room.  "  I  wish  I  were  rich,"  exclaimed 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  159 

Joyce,  impulsively,  as  she  finished.  "  I  wish  I 
had  a  beautiful  big  home,  and  I  would  adopt 
her  for  my  grandmother.  She  should  have 
a  great  lovely  room,  where  the  sun  shines  in 
all  day  long,  and  it  should  be  furnished  in  rose- 
color  like  the  one  that  she  had  when  she  was  a 
girl.  I'd  dress  her  in  gray  satin  and  soft  white 
lace.  She  has  the  prettiest  silvery  hair,  and 
beautiful  dark  eyes.  She  would  make  a  lovely 
grandmother.  And  I  would  have  a  maid  to 
wait  on  her,  and  there'd  be  mignonette  always 
growing  in  boxes  on  the  window-sill.  Every 
time  I  came  back  from  town,  I'd  bring  her  a 
present  just  for  a  nice  little  surprise  ;  and  I'd 
read  to  her,  and  sing  to  her,  and  make  her  feel 
that  she  belonged  to  somebody,  so  that  she'd  be 
happy  all  the  rest  of  her  days. 

"  Yesterday  while  I  was  there  she  was  holding 
a  little  cut  glass  vinaigrette.  It  had  a  big  D 
engraved  on  the  silver  top.  She  said  that  it 
was  the  only  thing  that  she  had  left  except  her 
wedding  ring,  and  that  it  was  to  be  Sister 
Denisa's  when  she  was  gone.  The  D  stands 
for  both  their  names.  Hers  is  Desire".  She 
said  the  vinaigrette  was  too  precious  to  part 
With  as  long  as  she  lives,  because  her-  oldest 


IOO      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

brother  gave  it  to  her  on  her  twelfth  birthday, 
when  she  was  exactly  as  old  as  I  am.  Isn't 
D6sir6  a  pretty  name  ? " 

"  Mademoiselle,"  called  Monsieur  Ciseaux 
from  the  next  room,  "mademoiselle,  will  you 
come  —  will  you  tell  me  —  what  name  was  that  ? 
Desire,  did  you  say  ?  " 

There  was  something  so  strange  in  the  way 
he  called  that  name  Desire",  almost  like  a  cry, 
that  Joyce  sprang  up,  startled,  and  ran  into  the 
next  room.  She  had  never  ventured  inside 
before. 

"Tell  me  again  what  you  were  telling  Jules," 
said  the  old  man.  "  Seventy-three  years,  did 
you  say  ?  And  how  long  has  she  been  back  in 
France  ? " 

Joyce  began  to  answer  his  rapid  questions, 
but  stopped  with  a  frightened  cry  as  her  glance 
fell  on  a  large  portrait  hanging  over  the  mantel. 
"  There  she  is  ! "  she  cried,  excitedly  dancing 
up  and  down  as  she  pointed  to  the  portrait. 
•'  There  she  is !  That's  Number  Thirty-one, 
her  very  own  self." 

1  You  are  mistaken  ! "  cried  the  old  man, 
attempting  to  rise  from  his  chair,  but  trembling 
so  that  he  could  scarcely  pull  himself  up  on  his 


"'THAT'S  NUMBER  THIRTY-ONE.' 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  163 

feet.  "That  is  a  picture  of  my  mother,  and 
Desire  is  dead ;  long  dead." 

"  But  it  is  exactly  like  Number  Thirty-one,  — 
I  mean  Madame  Desire,"  persisted  Joyce. 

Monsieur  looked  at  her  wildly  from  under 
his  shaggy  brows,  and  then,  turning  away, 
began  to  pace  up  and  down  the  room.  "  I  had 
a  sister  once,"  he  began.  "  She  would  have 
been  seventy-three  this  month,  and  her  name 
was  Desire." 

Joyce  stood  motionless  in  the  middle  of  the 
room,  wondering  what  was  coming  next.  Sud- 
denly turning  with  a  violence  that  made  her 
start,  he  cried,  "  No,  I  never  can  forgive !  She 
has  been  dead  to  me  nearly  a  lifetime.  Why 
did  you  tell  me  this,  child  ?  Out  of  my  sight ! 
What  is  it  to  me  if  she  is  homeless  and  alone  ? 
Go  !  Go  !  " 

He  waved  his  hands  so  wildly  in  motioning 
her  away,  that  Joyce  ran  out  of  the  room  and 
banged  the  door  behind  her. 

"What  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with 
him  ? "  asked  Jules,  in  a  frightened  whisper,  as 
they  listened  to  his  heavy  tread,  back  and  forth, 
back  and  forth,  in  the  next  room. 

Joyce  shook  her  head.     "  I  don't   know  for 


1 64     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

sure,"  she  answered,  hesitatingly,  "  but  I  be- 
lieve that  he  is  going  crazy." 

Jules's  eyes  opened  so  wide  that  Joyce  wished 
she  had  not  frightened  him.  "  Oh,  you  know 
that  I  didn't  mean  it,"  she  said,  reassuringly. 
The  heavy  tread  stopped,  and  the  children 
looked  at  each  other. 

"  What  can  he  be  doing  now  ? "  Jules  asked, 
anxiously. 

Joyce  tiptoed  across  the  room,  and  peeped 
through  the  keyhole.  "  He  is  sitting  down 
now,  by  the  table,  with  his  head  on  his  arms. 
He  looks  as  if  he  might  be  crying  about  some- 
thing." 

"  I  wish  he  didn't  feel  bad,"  said  Jules,  with 
a  swift  rush  of  pity.  "  He  has  been  so  good 
to  me  ever  since  he  sent  Brossard  away.  Some- 
times I  think  that  he  must  feel  as  much  alone 
in  the  world  as  I  do,  because  all  his  family  are 
dead,  too.  Before  I  broke  my  leg  I  was  making 
him  a  little  Christmas  tree,  so  that  he  need  not 
feel  left  out  when  we  had  the  big  one.  I  was 
getting  mistletoe  for  it  when  I  fell.  I  can't 
finish  it  now,  but  there's  five  pieces  of  candle  on 
it,  and  I'll  get  Clotilde  to  light  them  while  the 
f6te  is  going  on,  so  that  I'll  not  miss  the  big 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  165 

tree  so  much.  Oh,  nobody  knows  how  much  I 
want  to  go  to  that  fete !  Sometimes  it  seems 
more  than  I  can  bear  to  have  to  stay  away." 

"  Where  is  your  tree  ?  "  asked  Joyce.  "  May 
I  see  it  ?  " 

Jules  pointed  to  the  closet.  "  It's  in  there," 
he  said,  proudly.  "  I  trimmed  it  with  pieces 
that  Marie  swept  up  to  burn.  Oh,  shut  the 
door !  Quick !  "  he  cried,  excitedly,  as  a  step 
was  heard  in  the  hall.  "  I  don't  want  anybody 
to  see  it  before  the  time  comes." 

The  step  was  Henri's.  He  had  come  to  say 
that  Marie  was  waiting  to  take  mademoiselle 
home.  Joyce  was  glad  of  the  interruption. 
She  could  not  say  anything  in  praise  of  the 
poor  little  tree,  and  she  knew  that  Jules  ex- 
pected her  to.  She  felt  relieved  that  Henri's 
presence  made  it  impossible  for  her  to  express 
any  opinion. 

She  bade  Jules  good-by  gaily,  but  went  home 
with  such  a  sober  little  face  that  Cousin  Kate 
began  to  question  her  about  her  visit.  Madame, 
sitting  by  the  window  with  her  embroidery- 
frame,  heard  the  account  also.  Several  times 
she  looked  significantly  across  at  Cousin  Kate, 
over  the  child's  head. 


1 66     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

"Joyce,"  said  Cousin  Kate,  "you  have  had  so 
little  outdoor  exercise  since  Jules's  accident  that 
it  would  be  a  good  thing  for  you  to  run  around 
in  the  garden  awhile  before  dark." 
Joyce  had  not  seen   madame's 
glances,  but  she  felt  vaguely  that 
Cousin  Kate  was  making  an  ex- 
cuse to  get  rid  of  her.     She  was 
disappointed,  for  she  thought  that 
her  account  of   monsieur's  queer 
actions  and  Jules's  little  tree  would 
have  made   a  greater   impression 
on  her  audience.     She  went   out 
obediently,  walking  up  and  down 
the  paths  with  her  hands  in  her 
jacket    pockets,    and 
her  red  tam-o'shanter 
pulled  down  over  her 
eyes.     The  big  white 
cat  followed  her,  ran 
on    ahead,  and   then 
stopped,   arching    its 

back  as  if  waiting  for  her  to  stroke  it.  Taking 
no  notice  of  it,  Joyce  turned  aside  to  the 
pear-tree  and  climbed  up  among  the  highest 
branches, 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  167 

The  cat  rubbed  against  the  tree,  mewing  and 
purring  by  turns,  then  sprang  up  in  the  tree 
after  her.  She  took  the  warm,  furry  creature 
in  her  arms  and  began  talking  to  it. 

"Oh,  Solomon,"  she  said,  "what  do  you 
suppose  is  the  matter  over  there?  My  poor 
old  lady  must  be  monsieur's  sister,  or  she 
couldn't  have  looked  exactly  like  that  picture, 
and  he  would  not  have  acted  so  queerly.  What 
do  you  suppose  it  is  that  he  can  never  forgive  ? 
Why  did  he  call  me  in  there  and  then  drive  me 
out  in  such  a  crazy  way,  and  tramp  around  the 
room,  and  put  his  head  down  on  his  arms  as  if 
he  were  crying  ?  " 

Solomon  purred  louder  and  closed  his  eyes. 

"  Oh,  you  dear,  comfortable  old  thing," 
exclaimed  Joyce,  giving  the  cat  a  shake. 
"Wake  up  and  take  some  interest  in  what  I 
am  saying.  I  wish  you  were  as  smart  as  Puss 
in  Boots  ;  then  maybe  you  could  find  out  what 
is  the  matter.  How  I  wish  fairy  tales  could  be 
true  !  I'd  say  <  Giant  scissors,  right  the  wrong 
and  open  the  gate  that's  been  shut  so  long.' 
There  !  Did  you  hear  that,  Solomon  Gre"ville  ? 
i  said  a  rhyme  right  off  without  waiting  to 
make  it  up.  Then  the  scissors  would  leap 


1 68      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

down  and  cut  the  misunderstanding  or  trouble 
or  whatever  it  is,  and  the  gate  would  fly  open, 
and  there  the  brother  and  sister  would  meet 
each  other.  All  the  unhappy  years  would  be 
forgotten,  and  they'd  take  each  other  by  the 
hand,  just  as  they  did  when  they  were  little 
children,  Martin  and  D6sire,  and  go  into  the 
old  home  together,  —  on  Christmas  Day,  in 
the  morning." 

Joyce  was  half  singing  her  words  now,  as 
she  rocked  the  cat  back  and  forth  in  her  arms. 
"  And  then  the  scissors  would  bring  Jules  a 
magnificent  big  tree,  and  he'd  never  be  afraid 
of  his  uncle  any  more.  Oh,  they'd  all  have 
such  a  happy  time  on  Christmas  Day,  in  the 
morning ! " 

Joyce  had  fully  expected  to  be  homesick 
all  during  the  holidays  ;  but  now  she  was  so 
absorbed  in  other  people's  troubles,  and  her 
day-dreams  to  make  everybody  happy,  that 
she  forgot  all  about  herself.  She  fairly  bub- 
bled over  with  the  peace  and  good-will  of  the 
approaching  Christmas-tide,  and  rocked  the  cat 
back  and  forth  in  the  pear-tree  to  the  tune  of  a 
happy  old-time  carol. 

A   star   or   two   twinkled   out   through   the 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  169 

gloaming,  and,  looking  up  beyond  them  through 
the  infinite  stretches  of  space,  Joyce  thought 
of  a  verse  that  she  and  Jack  had  once  learned 
together,  one  rainy  Sunday  at  her  Grandmother 
Ware's,  sitting  on  a  little  stool  at  the  old  lady's 
feet: 

"  Behold  thou  hast  made  the  heaven  and  the 
earth  by  thy  great  power  and  outstretched 
arm,  and  there  is  notJdng  too  hard  for  thee" 
Her  heart  gave  a  bound  at  the  thought.  Why 
should  she  be  sitting  there  longing  for  fairy 
tales  to  be  true,  when  the  great  Hand  that  had 
set  the  stars  to  swinging  could  bring  anything 
to  pass ;  could  even  open  that  long-closed  gate 
and  bring  the  brother  and  sister  together  again, 
and  send  happiness  to  little  Jules  ? 

Joyce  lifted  her  eyes  again  and  looked  up, 
out  past  the  stars.  "  Oh,  if  you  please,  God," 
she  whispered,  "for  the  little  Christ-child's 
sake." 

When  Joyce  went  back  to  the  house,  Cousin 
Kate  sat  in  the  drawing-room  alone.  Madame 
had  gone  over  to  see  Jules,  and  did  not  return 
until  long  after  dark.  Berthe  had  been  in 
three  times  to  ask  monsieur  if  dinner  should 
be  served,  before  they  heard  her  ring  at  the 


I/O      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

gate.  When  she  finally  came,  there  was  such 
an  air  of  mystery  about  her  that  Joyce  was 
puzzled.  All  that  next  morning,  too,  the  day 
before  Christmas,  it  seemed  to  Joyce  as  if 
something  unusual  were  afloat.  Everybody  in 
the  house  was  acting  strangely. 

Madame  and  Cousin  Kate  did  not  come 
home  to  lunch.  She  had  been  told  that  she 
must  not  go  to  see  Jules  until  afternoon,  and 
the  doors  of  the  room  where  the  Christmas 
tree  was  kept  had  all  been  carefully  locked. 
She  thought  that  the  morning  never  would 
pass.  It  was  nearly  three  o'clock  when  she 
started  over  to  see  Jules.  To  her  great  sur- 
prise, as  she  ran  lightly  up  the  stairs  to  his 
room,  she  saw  her  Cousin  Kate  hurrying  across 
the  upper  hall,  with  a  pile  of  rose-colored  silk 
curtains  in  her  arms. 

Jules  tried  to  raise  himself  up  in  bed  as 
Joyce  entered,  forgetting  all  about  his  broken 
leg  in  his  eagerness  to  tell  the  news.  "Oh, 
what  do  you.  think!"  he  cried.  "They  said 
that  I  might  be  the  one  to  tell  you.  She  is 
Uncle  Martin's  sister,  the  old  woman  you  told 
about  yesterday,  and  he  is  going  to  bring  her 
home  to-morrow." 


A   GREAT   DISCOVERY.  I /I 

Joyce  sank  into  a  chair  with  a  little  gasp  at 
the  suddenness  of  his  news.  She  had  not  ex- 
pected this  beautiful  ending  of  her  day-dreams 
to  be  brought  about  so  soon,  although  she  had 
hoped  that  it  would  be  sometime. 

"  How  did  it  all  happen  ?  "  she  cried,  with  a 
beaming  face.  "Tell  me  about  it !  Quick  !  " 

"  Yesterday  afternoon  madame  came  over 
soon  after  you  left.  She  gave  me  my  wine 
jelly,  and  then  went  into  Uncle  Martin's  room, 
and  talked  and  talked  for  the  longest  time. 
After  she  had  gone  he  did  not  eat  any  dinner, 
and  I  think  that  he  must  have  sat  up  all  night, 
for  I  heard  him  walking  around  every  time  that 
I  waked  up.  Very  early  this  morning,  madame 
came  back  again,  and  M.  Greville  was  with  her. 
They  drove  with  Uncle  Martin  to  the  Little 
Sisters  of  the  Poor.  I  don't  know  what  hap- 
pened out  there,  only  that  Aunt  Desire  is  to 
be  brought  home  to-morrow. 

"  Your  Cousin  Kate  was  with  them  when 
they  came  back,  and  they  had  brought  all  sorts 
of  things  with  them  from  Tours.  She  is  in 
there  now,  making  Aunt  D6sir6's  room  look 
like  it  did  when  she  was  a  girl." 

"  Oh,  isn't  it  lovely  !  "  exclaimed  Joyce.     "  It 


1/2      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

is  better  than  all  the  fairy  tales  that  I  have  ever 
read  or  heard,  —  almost  too  good  to  be  true !  " 
Just  then  Cousin  Kate  called  her,  and  she  ran 
across  the  hall.  Standing  in  the  doorway,  she 
looked  all  around  the  freshly  furnished  room, 
that  glowed  with  the  same  soft,  warm  pink 
that  colors  the  heart  of  a  shell. 

"  How  beautiful !  "  cried  Joyce,  glancing  from 
the  rose  on  the  dressing-table  to  the  soft  cur- 
tains of  the  windows,  which  all  opened  towards 
the  morning  sun.  "  What  a  change  it  will  be 
from  that  big  bare  dormitory  with  its  rows  of 
narrow  little  cots."  She  tiptoed  around  the 
room,  admiring  everything,  and  smiling  over 
the  happiness  in  store  for  poor  old  Number 
Thirty-one,  when  she  should  find  herself  in 
the  midst  of  such  loveliness. 

Joyce's  cup  of  pleasure  was  so  full,  that  it 
brimmed  over  when  they  turned  to  leave  the 
room.  Cousin  Kate  slipped  an  arm  around 
her,  and  kissed  her  softly  on  the  forehead. 

"  You  dear  little  fairy  tale  lover,"  she  said. 
"  Do  you  know  that  it  is  because  of  you  that 
this  desert  has  blossomed  ?  If  you  had  never 
made  all  those  visits  to  the  Little  Sisters  of  the 
Poor,  and  had  never  won  old  Madame  D6sir6's 


A    GREAT    DISCOVERY.  1/3 

love  and  confidence  by  your  sympathy,  if  you 
had  never  told  Jules  the  story  of  the  giant 
scissors,  and  wished  so  loud  that  you  could  fly 
to  her  rescue,  old  monsieur  would  never  have 
known  that  his  sister  is  living.  Even  then,  I 
doubt  if  he  would  have  taken  this  step,  and 
brought  her  back  home  to  live,  if  your  stories 
of  your  mother  and  the  children  had  not 
brought  his  own  childhood  back  to  him.  He 
said  that  he  used  to  sit  there  hour  after  hour, 
and  hear  you  talk  of  your  life  at  home,  until 
some  of  its  warmth  and  love  crept  into  his  own 
frozen  old  heart,  and  thawed  out  its  selfishness 
and  pride." 

Joyce  lifted  her  radiant  face,  and  looked  to- 
wards the  half  opened  window,  as  she  caught 
the  sound  of  chimes.  Across  the  Loire  came 
the  deep-toned  voice  of  a  cathedral  bell,  ringing 
for  vespers. 

"  Listen  !  "  she  cried.  "  Peace  on  earth,  — 
good- will  —  oh,  Cousin  Kate  !  It  really  does 
seem  to  say  it !  My  Christmas  has  begun  the 
day  before." 


CHAPTER   X. 

CHRISTMAS. 

LONG  before  the  Christmas  dawn  was  bright 
enough  to  bring  the  blue  parrots  into  plain 
view  on  the  walls  of  Joyce's  room,  she  had 
climbed  out  of  bed  to  look  for  her  "messages 
from  Noel."  The  night  before,  following  the 
old  French  custom,  she  had  set  her  little 
slippers  just  outside  the  threshold.  Now,  can- 
dle in  hand,  she  softly  slipped  to  the  door  and 
peeped  out  into  the  hall.  Her  first  eager  glance 
showed  that  they  were  full. 

Climbing  back  into  her  warm  bed,  she  put 
the  candle  on  the  table  beside  it,  and.  began 
emptying  the  slippers.  They  were  filled  with 
bonbons  and  all  sorts  of  little  trifles,  such  as 
she  and  Jules  had  admired  in  the  gay  shop 
windows.  On  the  top  of  one  madame  had  laid 
a  slender  silver  pencil,  and  monsieur  a  pretty 
purse.  In  the  other  was  a  pair  of  little  wooden 
shoes,  fashioned  like  the  ones  that  Jules  had 


CHRISTMAS.  175 

worn  when  she  first  knew  him.  They  were 
only  half  as  long  as  her  thumb,  and  wrapped  in 
a  paper  on  which  was  written  that  Jules  him- 
self had  whittled  them  out  for  her,  with  Henri's 
help  and  instructions. 

"  What  little  darlings  ! "  exclaimed  Joyce. 
"  I  hope  he  will  think  as  much  of  the  scrap- 
book  that  I  made  for  him  as  I  do  of  these.  I 
know  that  he  will  be  pleased  with  the  big  micro- 
scope that  Cousin  Kate  bought  for  him." 

She  spread  all  the  things  out  on  the  table, 
and  gave  the  slippers  a  final  shake.  A  red 
morocco  case,  no  larger  than  half  a  dollar,  fell 
out  of  the  toe  of  one  of  them.  Inside  the  case 
was  a  tiny  buttonhole  watch,  with  its  wee 
hands  pointing  to  six  o'clock.  It  was  the 
smallest  watch  that  Joyce  had  ever  seen, 
Cousin  Kate's  gift.  Joyce  could  hardly  keep 
back  a  little  squeal  of  delight.  She  wanted  to 
wake  up  everybody  on  the  place  and  show  it. 
Then  she  wished  that  she  could  be  back  in  the 
brown  house,  showing  it  to  her  mother  and  the 
children.  For  a  moment,  as  she  thought  of 
them,  sharing  the  pleasure  of  their  Christmas 
stockings  without  her,  a  great  wave  of  home- 
sickness swept  over  her,  and  she  lay  back  on 


I/O      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

the  pillow  with  that  miserable,  far-away  feeling 
that,  of  all  things,  makes  one  most  desolate. 

Then  she  heard  the  rapid  "tick,  tick,  tick, 
tick,"  of  the  little  watch,  and  was  comforted. 
She  had  not  realized  before  that  time  could  go 
so  fast.  Now  thirty  seconds  were  gone ;  then 
sixty.  At  this  rate  it  could  not  be  such  a  very 
long  time  before  they  would  be  packing  their 
trunks  to  start  home ;  so  Joyce  concluded  not 
to  make  herself  unhappy  by  longing  for  the 
family,  but  to  get  as  much  pleasure  as  possible 
out  of  this  strange  Christmas  abroad. 

That  little  watch  seemed  to  make  the  morn- 
ing fly.  She  looked  at  it  at  least  twenty  times 
an  hour.  She  had  shown  it  to  every  one  in 
the  house,  and  was  wishing  that  she  could  take 
it  over  to  Jules  for  him  to  see,  when  Monsieur 
Ciseaux's  carriage  stopped  at  the  gate.  He 
was  on  his  way  to  the  Little  Sisters  of  the 
Poor,  and  had  come  to  ask  Joyce  to  drive  with 
him  to  bring  his  sister  home. 

He  handed  her  into  the  carriage  as  if  she 
had  been  a  duchess,  and  then  seemed  to  forget 
that  she  was  beside  him ;  for  nothing  was  said 
all  the  way.  As  the  horses  spun  along  the 
road  in  the  keen  morning  air,  the  old  man  was 


CHRISTMAS.  I// 

busy  with  his  memories,  his  head  dropped  for- 
ward on  his  breast.  The  child  watched  him, 
entering  into  this  little  drama  as  sympatheti- 
cally as  if  she  herself  were  the  forlorn  old 
woman,  and  this  silent,  white-haired  man  at 
her  side  were  Jack. 

Sister  Denisa  came  running  out  to  meet 
them,  her  face  shining  and  her  eyes  glisten- 
ing with  tears.  "  It  is  for  joy  that  I  weep," 
she  exclaimed,  "  that  poor  madame  should  have 
come  to  her  own  again.  See  the  change  that 
has  already  been  made  in  her  by  the  blessed 
news." 

Joyce  looked  down  the  corridor  as  monsieur 
hurried  forward  to  meet  the  old  lady  coming 
towards  them,  and  to  offer  his  arm.  Hope  had 
straightened  the  bowed  figure;  joy  had  put 
lustre  into  her  dark  eyes  and  strength  into  her 
weak  frame.  She  walked  with  such  proud 
stateliness  that  the  other  inmates  of  the  home 
looked  up  at  her  in  surprise  as  she  passed. 
She  was  no  more  like  the  tearful,  broken- 
spirited  woman  who  had  lived  among  them  so 
long,  than  her  threadbare  dress  was  like  the 
elegant  mantle  which  monsieur  had  brought  to 
fold  around  her. 


1/8      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Joyce  had  brought  a  handful  of  roses  to 
Sister  Denisa,  who  caught  them  up  with  a  cry 
of  pleasure,  and  held  them  against  her  face  as 
if  they  carried  with  them  some  sweetness  of 
another  world. 

Madame  came  up  then,  and,  taking  the  nun  in 
her  arms,  tried  to  thank  her  for  all  that  she  had 
done,  but  could  find  no  words  for  a  gratitude  so 
deep,  and  turned  away,  sobbing. 

They  said  good-by  to  Sister  Denisa,  —  brave 
Little  Sister  of  the  Poor,  whose  only  joy  was 
the  pleasure  of  unselfish  service ;  who  had  no 
time  to  even  stand  at  the  gate  and  be  a  glad 
witness  of  other  people's  Christmas  happiness, 
but  must  hurry  back  to  her  morning  task  of 
dealing  out  coffee  and  clean  handkerchiefs  to 
two  hundred  old  paupers.  No,  there  were  only 
a  hundred  and  ninety-nine  now.  Down  the 
streets,  across  the  Loire,  into  the  old  village 
and  out  again,  along  the  wide  Paris  road,  one 
of  them  was  going  home. 

The  carriage  turned  and  went  for  a  little 
space  between  brown  fields  and  closely  clipped 
hedgerows,  and  then  madame  saw  the  windows 
of  her  old  home  flashing  back  the  morning 
sunlight  over  the  high  stone  wall.  Again  the 


CHRISTMAS.  I  ?9 

Carriage  turned,  into  the  lane  this  time,  and 
now  the  sunlight  was  caught  up  by  the  scissors 
over  the  gate,  and  thrown  dazzlingly  down  into 
their  faces. 

Monsieur  smiled  as  he  looked  at  Joyce,  a 
tender,  gentle  smile  that  one  would  have  sup- 
posed never  could  have  been  seen  on  those 
harsh  lips.  She  was  almost  standing  up  in 
the  carriage,  in  her  excitement. 

"  Oh,  it  has  come  true  ! "  she  cried,  clasping 
her  hands  together.  "  The  gates  are  really 
opening  at  last !  " 

Yes,  the  Ogre,  whatever  may  have  been  its 
name,  no  longer  lived.  Its  spell  was  broken, 
for  now  the  giant  scissors  no  longer  barred 
the  way.  Slowly  the  great  gate  swung  open, 
and  the  carriage  passed  through.  Joyce  sprang 
out  and  ran  on  ahead  to  open  the  door.  Hand 
in  hand,  just  as  when  they  were  little  children, 
Martin  and  Desire",  this  white-haired  brother 
and  sister  went  back  to  the  old  home  together ; 
and  it  was  Christmas  Day,  in  the  morning. 

At  five  o'clock  that  evening  the  sound  of 
Gabriel's  accordeon  went  echoing  up  and 
down  the  garden,  and  thirty  little  children 


ISO      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 


were  marching  to  its  music  along  the  paths, 
between  the  rows  of  blooming  laurel.  Joyce 
understood,  now,  why  the  room  where  the 
Christmas  tree  stood  had  been  kept  so  care- 
fully locked.  For  two  days  that  room  had 
been  empty  and  the  tree  had  been  standing 
in  Monsieur  Ciseaux's  parlor.  Cousin  Kate 
and  madame  and  Berthe  and  Marie  and 
Gabriel  had  ail  been  over  there,  busily  at 
work,  and  neither  she  nor  Jules  had  suspected 
what  was  going  on  down-stairs. 

Now  she  marched  with  the  others,  out  of 
the  garden  and  across  the  road,  keeping  time 
to  the  music  of  the  wheezy  old  accordeon  that 
Gabriel  played  so  proudly.  Surely  every  soul, 
in  all  that  long  procession  filing  through  the 
gate  of  the  giant  scissors,  belonged  to  the 


CHRISTMAS. 


181 


kingdom  of  loving  hearts  and  gentle  hands ; 
for  they  were  all  children  who  passed  through, 
or  else  mothers  who  carried  in  their  arms  the 
little  ones  who,  but  for  these  faithful  arms, 
must  have  missed  this  Ncel  fete. 

Jules  had  been  carried  down-stairs  and  laid 
on  a  couch  in  the  corner  of  the  room  where  he 
could  see  the  tree  to  its  best  advantage.  Beside 
him  sat  his  great-aunt,  Desire",  dressed  in  a 
satin  gown  of  silvery  gray  that  had  been  her 
mother's,  and  looking  as  if  she  had  just  stepped 
out  from  the  frame  of  the  portrait  up-stairs. 
She  held  Jules's  hand  in  hers,  as  if  with  it  she 
grasped  the  other  Jules,  the  little  brother  of 
the  olden  days  for  whom  this  child  had  been 
named.  And  she  told  him  stories  of  his  grand- 
father and  his  father.  Then  Jules  found  that 


182     THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

this  Aunt  Desire"  had  known  his  mother;  had 
once  sat  on  the  vine-covered  porch  while  he 
ran  after  fireflies  on  the  lawn  in  his  little  white 
dress ;  had  heard  the  song  the  voice  still  sang 
to  him  in  his  dreams  : 

"  Till  the  stars  and  the  angels  come  to  keep 
Their  watch  where  my  baby  lies  fast  asleep." 

When  she  told  him  this,  with  her  hand 
stroking  his  and  folding  it  tight  with  many 
tender  little  claspings,  he  felt  that  he  had 
found  a  part  of  his  old  home,  too,  as  well  as 
Aunt  Desire. 

One  by  one  the  tapers  began  to  glow  on  the 
great  tree,  and  when  it  was  all  ablaze  the  doors 
were  opened  for  the  children  to  flock  in.  They 
stood  about  the  room,  bewildered  at  first,  for 
not  one  of  them  had  ever  seen  such  a  sight 
before;  a  tree  that  glittered  and  sparkled  and 
shone,  that  bore  stars  and  rainbows  and  snow 
wreaths  and  gay  toys.  At  first  they  only  drew 
deep,  wondering  breaths,  and  looked  at  each 
other  with  shining  eyes.  It  was  all  so  beau- 
tiful and  so  strange. 

Joyce  flew  here  and  there,  helping  to  dis- 
tribute the  gifts,  feeling  her  heart  grow  warmer 


CHRISTMAS.  183 

and  warmer  as  she  watched  the  happy  children. 
"My  little  daughter  never  had  anything  like 
that  in  all  her  life,"  said  one  grateful  mother 
as  Joyce  laid  a  doll  in  the  child's  outstretched 
arms.  "  She'll  never  forget  this  to  her  dying  day, 
nor  will  any  of  us,  dear  mademoiselle  !  We  knew 
not  what  it  was  to  have  so  beautiful  a  Noel ! " 

When  the  last  toy  had  been  stripped  from 
the  branches,  it  was  Cousin  Kate's  turn  to  be 
surprised.  At  a  signal  from  madame,  the  chil- 
dren began  circling  around  the  tree,  singing  a 
song  that  the  sisters  at  the  village  school  had 
taught  them  for  the  occasion.  It  was  a  happy 
little  song  about  the  green  pine-tree,  king  of  all 
trees  and  monarch  of  the  woods,  because  of 
the  crown  he  yearly  wears  at  Noel.  At  the 
close  every  child  came  up  to  madame  and 
Cousin  Kate  and  Joyce,  to  say  "Thank  you, 
madame,"  and  "  Good  night,"  in  the  politest 
way  possible. 

Gabriel's  accordeon  led  them  out  again,  and 
the  music,  growing  fainter  and  fainter,  died 
away  in  the  distance ;  but  in  every  heart  that 
heard  it  had  been  born  a  memory  whose  music 
could  never  be  lost, — the  memory  of  one  happy 
Christmas. 


1 84      THE    GATE    OF    THE    GIANT    SCISSORS. 

Joyce  drew  a  long  breath  when  it  was 
all  over,  and,  with  her  arm  around  Madame 
D6sir6's  shoulder,  smiled  down  at  Jules. 

"  How  beautifully  it  has  all  ended ! "  she 
exclaimed.  "I  am  sorry  that  we  have  come 
to  the  place  to  say  « and  they  all  lived  happily 
ever  after,'  for  that  means  that  it  is  time  to 
shut  the  book." 

"Dear  heart,"  murmured  Madame  Desire", 
drawing  the  child  closer  to  her,  "it  means 
that  a  far  sweeter  story  is  just  beginning, 
and  it  is  you  who  have  opened  the  book 
for  me." 

Joyce  flushed  with  pleasure,  saying,  "  I 
thought  this  Christmas  would  be  so  lonely ; 
but  it  has  been  the  happiest  of  my  life." 

"  And  mine,  too,"  said  Monsieur  Ciseaux 
from  the  other  side  of  Jules's  couch.  He 
took  the  little  fellow's  hand  in  his.  "They 
told  me  about  the  tree  that  you  prepared  for 
me.  I  have  been  up  to  look  at  it,  and  now  I 
have  come  to  thank  you."  To  the  surprise  of 
every  one  in  the  room,  monsieur  bent  over  and 
kissed  the  flushed  little  face  on  the  pillow. 
Jules  reached  up,  and,  putting  his  arms  around 
his  uncle's  neck,  laid  his  cheek  a  moment 


CHRISTMAS.  1 87 

against  the  face  of  his  stern  old  kinsman. 
Not  a  word  was  said,  but  in  that  silent 
caress  every  barrier  of  coldness  and  reserve 
was  forever  broken  down  between  them.  So 
the  little  Prince  came  into  his  kingdom,  —  the 
kingdom  of  love  and  real  home  happiness. 

It  is  summer  now,  and  far  away  in  the  little 
brown  house  across  the  seas  Joyce  thinks  of 
her  happy  winter  in  France  and  the  friends 
that  she  found  through  the  gate  of  the  giant 
scissors.  And  still  those  scissors  hang  over 
the  gate,  and  may  be  seen  to  this  day,  by  any 
one  who  takes  the  trouble  to  v^alk  up  the  hill 
from  the  little  village  that  lies  just  across  the 
river  Loire,  from  the  old  town  of  Tours. 


THE    END. 


TWO   LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF 
KENTUCKY 


TO 

MARGARET  AND  ALBION, 

MARY,  HELEN,  LURA  AND  ROSE, 

WILLIAM  AND  GEORGE 


CHAPTER  PA  OK 

I.  Two  TRAMPS  AND  A  BEAR  ,        .        .n 

II.  GINGER  AND  THE  BOYS  31 

III.  THE  VALENTINE  PARTY  ...      51 

IV.  A  FIRE  AND  A  PLAN  76 
V.  JONESY'S  BENEFIT  .        ,  .                 .98 

VI.  THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  Two  RESCUES     124 

VII.  A  GAME  OF  INDIAN       ,  -        .        .143 

VIII.  "FAIRCHANCE"  .  .  .          „      169 


TWO   LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF 
KENTUCKY. 


CHAPTER   I. 

TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR. 

IT  was  the  coldest  Saint  Valentine's  eve  that 
Kentucky  had  known  in  twenty  years.  In 
Lloydsborough  Valley  a  thin  sprinkling  of  snow 
whitened  the  meadows,  enough  to  show  the 
footprints  of  every  hungry  rabbit  that  loped 
across  them ;  but  there  were  not  many  such 
tracks.  It  was  so  cold  that  the  rabbits,  for 
all  their  thick  fur,  were  glad  to  run  home  and 
hide.  Nobody  cared  to  be  out  long  in  such 
weather,  and  except  now  and  then,  when  an 
ice-cutter's  wagon  creaked  up  from  some  pond 


12        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

to  the  frozen  pike,  the  wintry  stillness  was 
unbroken. 

On  the  north  side  of  the  little  country  depot 
a  long  row  of  icicles  hung  from  the  eaves. 
Even  the  wind  seemed  to  catch  its  breath 
there,  and  hurry  on  with  a  shiver  that  reached 
to  the  telegraph  wires  overhead.  It  shivered 
down  the  long  stovepipe,  too,  inside  the  wait- 
ing-room. The  stove  had  been  kept  red-hot 
all  that  dull  gray  afternoon,  but  the  window- 
panes  were  still  white  with  heavy  frost- 
work. 

Half  an  hour  before  the  five  o'clock  train  was 
due  from  the  city,  two  boys  came  running  up 
the  railroad  track  with  their  skates  in  their 
hands.  They  were  handsome,  sturdy  little  fel- 
lows, so  well  buttoned  up  in  their  leather 
leggins  and  warm  reefer  overcoats  that  they 
scarcely  felt  the  cold.  Their  cheeks  were  red 
as  winter  apples,  from  skating  against  the  wind, 
and  they  were  almost  breathless  after  their  long 
run  up-hill  to  the  depot.  Racing  across  the 
platform,  they  bumped  against  the  door  at  the 
same  instant,  burst  it  noisily  open,  and  slammed 
it  behind  them  with  a  bang  that  shook  the 
entire  building. 


TWO   TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR.  1^ 

"What  kind  of  a  cyclone  has  struck  us 
now  ? "  growled  the  ticket  agent,  who  was  in 
the  next  room.  Then  he  frowned,  as  the  first 
noise  was  followed  by  the  rasping  sound  of  a 
bench  being  dragged  out  of  a  corner,  to  a  place 
nearer  the  stove.  It  scraped  the  bare  floor  every 
inch  of  the  way,  with  a  jarring  motion  that  made 
the  windows  rattle. 

Stretching  himself  half-way  out  of  his  chair, 
the  ticket  agent  pushed  up  the  wooden  slide 
of  the  little  window  far  enough  for  him  to  peep 
into  the  waiting-room.  Then  he  hastily  shoved 
it  down  again. 

"  It's  the  two  little  chaps  who  came  out  from 
the  city  last  week,"  he  said  to  the  station- 
master.  "  The  Maclntyre  boys.  You'd  think 
they  own  the  earth  from  the  way  they  dash  in 
and  take  possession  of  things." 

The  station-master  liked  boys.  He  stroked 
his  gray  beard  and  chuckled.  "  Well,  Meyers," 
he  said,  slowly,  "when  you  come  to  think  of 
it,  their  family  always  has  owned  a  pretty  fair 
slice  of  the  earth  and  its  good  things,  and  those 
same  little  lads  have  travelled  nearly  all  over  it, 
although  the  oldest  can't  be  more  than  ten.  It 
would  be  a  wonder  if  they  didn't  have  that 


14        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

lordly  way  of  making  themselves  at  home 
wherever  they  go." 

"  Will  they  be  out  here  all  winter  ? "  asked 
Meyers,  who  was  a  newcomer  in  Lloydsborough. 

"  Yes,  their  father  and  mother  have  gone  to 
Florida,  and  left  them  here  with  their  grand- 
mother Maclntyre." 

"  I  imagine  the  old  lady  has  her  hands  full," 
said  Meyers,  as  a  sound  of  scuffling  in  the  next 
room  reached  him. 

"  Oh,  I  don't  know  about  that,  now,"  said  the 
station-master.  "  They're  noisy  children,  to  be 
sure,  and  just  boiling  over  with  mischief,  but  if 
you  can  find  any  better-mannered  little  gentle- 
men anywhere  in  the  State  when  there's  ladies 
around,  I'd  like  you  to  trot  'em  out.  They  came 
down  to  the  train  with  their  aunt  this  morning, 
Miss  Allison  Maclntyre,  and  their  politeness  to 
her  was  something  pretty  to  see,  I  can  tell  you, 
sir." 

There  was  a  moment's  pause,  in  which  the 
boys  could  be  heard  laughing  in  the  next 
room. 

"  No,"  said  the  station-master  again,  "  I'm 
thinking  it's  not  the  boys  who  will  be  keeping 
Mrs.  Maclntyre's  hands  full  this  winter,  so 


TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR.  15 

much  as  that  little  granddaughter  of  hers  that 
came  here  last  fall, — little  Virginia  Dudley.  You 
can  guess  what's  she  like  from  her  nickname. 
They  call  her  Ginger.  She  had  always  lived  at 
some  army  post  out  West,  until  her  father,  Cap- 
tain Dudley,  was  ordered  to  Cuba.  He  was 
wounded  down  there,  and  has  never  been  en- 
tirely well  since.  When  he  found  they  were 
going  to  keep  him  there  all  winter,  he  sent  for 
his  wife  last  September,  and  there  was  nothing 
to  do  with  Virginia  but  to  bring  her  back  to 
Kentucky  to  her  grandmother." 

"  Oh,  she's  the  little  girl  who  went  in  on  the 
train  this  morning  with  Miss  Allison,"  said  the 
ticket  agent.  "  I  suppose  the  boys  have  come 
down  to  meet  them.  They'll  have  a  long  time 
to  wait." 

While  this  conversation  was  going  on  behind 
the  ticket  window,  the  two  boys  stretched  them- 
selves out  on  a  long  bench  beside  the  stove. 
The  warm  room  made  them  feel  drowsy  after 
their  violent  out-door  exercise.  Keith,  the 
younger  one,  yawned  several  times,  and  finally 
lay  down  on  the  bench  with  his  cap  for  a  pillow. 
He  was  eight  years  old,  but  curled  up  in  that 
fashion,  with  his  long  eyelashes  resting  on  his 


1 6       TWO    LITTLE   KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

red  cheeks,  and  one  plump  little  hand  tucked 
under  his  chin,  he  looked  much  younger. 

"Wake  me  up,  Malcolm,  when  it's  time  foi 
Aunt  Allison's  train,"  he  said  to  his  brother. 
"Ginger  would  never  stop  teasing  me  if  she 
should  find  me  asleep." 

Malcolm  unbuttoned  his  reefer,  and,  after 
much  tugging,  pulled  out  a  handsome  little  gold 
watch.  "  Oh,  there's  a  long  time  to  wait !  "  he 
exclaimed.  "We  need  not  have  left  the  pond 
so  early,  for  the  train  will  not  be  here  for 
twenty-five  minutes.  I  believe  I'll  curl  up 
here  myself,  till  then.  I  hope  they  won't 
forget  the  valentines  we  sent  for." 

The  room  was  very  still  for  a  few  minutes. 
There  was  no  sound  at  all  except  the  crackling  of 
the  fire  and  the  shivering  of  the  wind  in  the 
long  stovepipe.  Then  some  one  turned  the 
door-knob  so  cautiously  and  slowly  that  it 
unlatched  without  a  sound. 

It  was  the  cold  air  rushing  into  the  room  as 
the  door  was  pushed  ajar  that  aroused  the  boys. 
After  one  surprised  glance  they  sat  up,  for  the 
man,  who  was  slipping  into  the  room  as  stealthily 
as  a  burglar,  was  the  worst-looking  tramp  they 
had  ever  seen.  There  was  a  long,  ugly  red  scar 


TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR. 


across  his  face,  running  from  his  cheek  to  the 
middle  of  his  forehead,  and  partly  closing  one 
eye.  Perhaps 
it  was  the  scar 
that  gave  him 
such  a  queer, 
evil  sort  of  an 
expression ; 
even  without 
it  he  would 
have  been  a 
repulsive  sight. 
His  clothes 
were  dirty  and 
ragged,  and  his 
breath  had 
frozen  in  ici- 
cles on  his 
stubby  red 
beard. 

Behind  him 
came  a  boy  no 
larger  than  Keith,  but  with  a  hard,  shrewd  look 
in  his  hungry  little  face  that  made  one  feel  he 
had  lived  a  long  time  and  learned  more  than 
was  good  for  him  to  know.  It  was  plain  to 


1 8        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

be  seen  that  he  was  nearly  starved,  and  suf- 
fering from  the  intense  cold.  His  bare  toes 
peeped  through  their  ragged  shoes,  and  he 
had  no  coat.  A  thin  cotton  shirt  and  a  piece 
of  an  old  gray  horse-blanket  was  all  that  pro- 
tected his  shoulders  from  the  icy  wind  of  that 
February  afternoon.  He,  too,  crept  in  noise- 
lessly, as  if  expecting  to  be  ordered  out  at  the 
first  sound,  and  then  turned  to  coax  in  some 
animal  that  was  tied  to  one  end  of  the  rope 
which  he  held. 

Malcolm  and  Keith  looked  on  with  interest, 
and  sprang  up  excitedly  as  the  animal  finally 
shuffled  in  far  enough  for  the  boy  to  close  the 
door  behind  it.  It  was  a  great,  shaggy  bear, 
taller  than  the  man  when  it  sat  up  on  its 
haunches  beside  him. 

The  tramp  looked  uneasily  around  the  room 
for  an  instant,  but  seeing  no  one  save  the  two 
children,  ventured  nearer  the  stove.  The  boy 
followed  him,  and  the  bear  shuffled  along  behind 
them  both,  limping  painfully.  Not  a  word  was 
said  for  a  moment.  The  boys  were  casting 
curious  glances  at  the  three  tramps  who  had 
come  in  as  noiselessly  as  if  they  had  snowed 
down,  and  the  man  was  watching  the  boys 


TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR.  ig 

with  shrewd  eyes.  He  did  not  seem  to  be  look- 
ing at  them,  but  at  the  end  of  his  survey  he 
could  have  described  them  accurately.  He  had 
noticed  every  detail  of  their  clothing,  from  their 
expensive  leather  leggins  to  their  fur-lined 
gloves.  He  glanced  at  Malcolm's  watch-chain 
and  the  fine  skates  which  Keith  swung  back 
and  forth  by  a  strap,  and  made  up  his  mind, 
correctly,  too,  that  the  pockets  of  these  boys 
rarely  lacked  the  jingle  of  money  which  they 
could  spend  as  they  pleased. 

When  he  turned  away  to  hold  his  hands  out 
toward  the  stove,  he  rubbed  them  together 
with  satisfaction,  for  he  had  discovered  more 
than  that.  He  knew  from  their  faces  that 
they  were  trusting  little  souls,  who  would 
believe  any  story  he  might  tell  them,  if  he 
appealed  to  their  sympathies  in  the  right 
way.  He  was  considering  how  to  begin,  when 
Malcolm  broke  the  silence. 

"  Is  that  a  trained  bear  ? " 

The  man  nodded. 

"  What  can  it  do  ? "  was  the  next  question. 

"  Oh,  lots  of  things,"  answered  the  man,  in  a 
low,  whining  voice.  "  Drill  like  a  soldier,  and 
dance,  and  ride  a  stick."  He  kept  his  shifty 


20        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

eyes  turning  constantly  toward  the  door,  as  if 
afraid  some  one  might  overhear  him. 

"  I'd  put  him  through  his  paces  for  you  young 
gen'lemen,"  he  said,  "  but  he  got  his  foot  hurt 
for  one  thing,  and  another  is,  if  we  went  to 
showing  off,  we  might  be  ordered  to  move  on. 
This  is  the  first  time  we've  smelled  a  fire  in 
twenty-four  hours,  and  we  ain't  in  no  hurry  to 
leave  it,  I  can  tell  you." 

"Will  he  bite?"  asked  Keith,  going  up  to 
the  huge  bear,  which  had  stretched  itself  out 
comfortably  on  the  floor. 

"  Not  generally.  He's  a  good-tempered  brute, 
most  times  like  a  lamb.  But  he  ain't  had  noth- 
ing to  eat  all  day,  so  it  wouldn't  be  surprising 
if  he  was  a  bit  snappish." 

"Nothing  to  eat!"  echoed  Keith.  "You 
poor  old  thing !  "  Going  a  step  closer,  he  put 
out  his  hand  and  stroked  the  bear,  as  if  it  had 
been  a  great  dog. 

"Oh,  Malcolm,  just  feel  how  sot>  his  fur  is, 
like  mamma's  beaver  jacket.  And  he  has  the 
kindest  old  face.  Poor  old  fellow,  is  you 
hungry?  Never  mind,  Keith'll  get  you  some 
thing  to  eat  pretty  soon." 

Putting  his  short,  plump  arms  around  the 


TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A   BEAR.  21 

animal's  neck,  he  hugged  it  lovingly  up  to  him. 
A  cunning  gleam  came  into  the  man's  eyes. 
He  saw  that  he  had  gained  the  younger  boy's 
sympathy,  and  he  wanted  Malcolm's  also. 

"  Is  your  home  near  here,  my  little  gen'le- 
man  ?  "  he  asked,  in  a  friendly  tone. 

"No,  we  live  in  the  city,"  answered  Mal- 
colm, "  but  my  grandmother's  place,  where  we 
are  staying,  is  not  far  from  here."  He  was 
stroking  the  bear  with  one  hand  as  he  spoke, 
and  hunting  in  his  pocket  with  the  other,  hop- 
ing to  find  some  stray  peanuts  to  give  it. 

"Then  maybe  you  know  of  some  place  where 
we  could  stay  to-night.  Even  a  shed  to  crawl 
into  would  keep  us  from  freezing.  It's  an 
awful  cold  night  not  to  have  a  roof  over  your 
head,  or  a  crust  to  gnaw  on,  or  a  spark  of  fire 
to  keep  life  in  your  body." 

"  Maybe  they'd  let  you  stay  in  the  waiting- 
room,"  suggested  Malcolm.  "  It  is  always  good 
and  warm  in  here.  I'll  ask  the  station-master. 
He's  a  friend  of  mine." 

"  Oh,  no  !  No,  don't !  "  exclaimed  the  tramp, 
hastily,  pulling  his  old  hat  farther  over  his  fore- 
head, as  if  to  hide  the  scar,  and  looking  uneasily 
around.  "  I  wouldn't  have  you  do  that  for  any- 


22        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

thing.  I've  had  dealings  with  such  folks  before, 
and  I  know  how  they'd  treat  me.  I  thought 
maybe  there  was  a  barn  or  a  hay-shed  or  some- 
thing on  your  grandmother's  place,  where  we 
could  lay  up  for  repairs  a  couple  of  days.  The 
beast  needs  a  rest.  Its  foot's  sore  ;  and  Jonesy 
there  is  pretty  near  to  lung  fever,  judging  from 
the  way  he  coughs."  He  nodded  toward  the 
boy,  who  had  placed  his  chair  as  close  to 
the  stove  as  possible.  The  child's  face  was 
drawn  into  a  pucker  by  the  tingling  pains  in 
his  half-frozen  feet,  and  his  efforts  to  keep 
from  coughing. 

Malcolm  looked  at  him  steadily.  He  had 
read  about  boys  who  were  homeless  and  hungry 
and  cold,  but  he  had  never  really  understood 
how  much  it  meant  to  be  all  that.  This  was 
the  first  time  in  his  ten  short  years  that  he  had 
ever  come  close  to  real  poverty.  He  had  seen 
the  swarms  of  beggars  that  infest  such  cities  as 
Naples  and  Rome,  and  had  tossed  them  coppers 
because  that  seemed  a  part  of  the  programme 
in  travelling.  He  had  not  really  felt  sorry  for 
them,  for  they  did  not  seem  to  mind  it.  They 
sat  on  the  steps  in  the  warm  Italian  sunshine, 
and  waited  for  tourists  to  throw  them  money, 


TWO  TRAMPS  AND  A  BEAR.  23 

as  comfortably  as  toads  sit  blinking  at  flies. 
But  this  was  different.  A  wave  of  pity  swept 
through  Malcolm's  generous  little  heart  as  he 
looked  at  Jonesy,  and  the  man  watching  him 
shrewdly  saw  it. 

"Of  course,"  he  whined,  "a  little  gen'leman 
like  you  don't  know  what  it  is  to  go  from  town 
to  town  and  have  every  door  shut  in  your  face. 
You  don't  think  that  this  is  a  hard-hearted, 
stingy  old  world,  because  it  has  given  you  the 
cream  of  everything.  But  if  you'd  never  had 
anything  all  your  life  but  other  people's  scraps 
and  leavings,  and  you  hadn't  any  home  or 
friends  or  money,  and  was  sick  besides,  you'd 
think  things  wasn't  very  evenly  divided.  Wouldn't 
you  now  ?  You'd  think  it  wasn't  right  that 
some  should  have  all  that  heart  can  wish, 
and  others  not  enough  to  keep  soul  and  body 
together.  If  you'd  a-happened  to  be  Jonesy, 
and  Jonesy  had  a-happened  to  'a'  been  you,  I 
reckon  you'd  feel  it  was  pretty  tough  to  see 
such  a  big  difference  between  you.  It  doesn't 
seem  fair  now,  does  it  ?  " 

"  No,"  admitted  Malcolm,  faintly.  He  had 
taken  a  dislike  to  the  man.  He  could  not  have 
told  why,  but  his  child  instinct  armed  him  with 


24       TWO    LITTLE   KNIGHTS   OF    KENTUCKY. 

a  sudden  distrust.  Still,  he  felt  the  force  of 
the  whining  appeal,  and  the  burden  of  an  obliga- 
tion to  help  them  seemed  laid  upon  his  shoulders. 

"  Grandmother  is  afraid  for  anybody  to  sleep 
in  the  barn,  on  account  of  fire,"  he  said,  after 
a  moment's  thought,  "  and  I'm  sure  she  wouldn't 
let  you  come  into  the  house  without  you'd  had 
a  bath  and  some  clean  clothes.  Grandmother  is 
dreadfully  particular,"  he  added,  hastily,  not 
wanting  to  be  impolite  even  to  a  tramp.  "  Seems 
to  me  Keith  and  I  have  to  spend  half  our  time 
washing  our  hands  and  putting  on  clean  collars." 

"Oh,  I  know  a  place,"  cried  Keith.  "There's 
that  empty  cabin  down  by  the  spring-house. 
Nobody  has  lived  in  it  since  the  new  servants' 
cottage  was  built.  There  isn't  any  furniture  in 
it,  but  there's  a  fireplace  in  one  room,  and  it 
would  be  warmer  than  the  barn." 

"That's  just  the  trick!"  exclaimed  Malcolm. 
"We  can  carry  a  pile  of  hay  over  from  the 
barn  for  you  to  sleep  on.  Aunt  Allison  will  be 
out  on  this  next  train  and  I'll  ask  her.  I  am 
sure  she  will  let  you,  because  last  night,  when  it 
was  so  cold,  she  said  she  felt  sorry  for  any- 
thing that  had  to  be  out  in  it,  even  the  poor  old 
cedar-trees,  with  the  sleet  on  their  branches. 


TWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR.  2$ 

She  said  that  it  was  King  Lear's  own  weather, 
and  she  could  understand  how  Cordelia  felt  when 
she  said,  '  Mine  enemy's  dog,  though  he  had  bit 
me,  should  have  stood  that  night  against  my 
fire!'  It  is  just  like  auntie  to  feel  that  way 
about  it,  only  she's  so  good  to  everybody  she 
couldn't  have  any  enemies." 

Something  like  a  smile  moved  the  tramp's 
stubby  beard.  "So  she's  that  kind,  is  she? 
Well,  if  she  could  have  a  soft  spot  for  a  dog 
that  had  bit  her,  and  an  enemy's  dog  at  that,  it 
stands  to  reason  that  she  wouldn't  object  to 
some  harmless  travellers  a-sleeping  in  an  empty 
cabin  a  couple  of  nights.  S'pose'n  you  show 
us  the  place,  sonny,  and  we'll  be  moving  on." 

"  Oh,  it  wouldn't  be  right  not  to  ask  her 
first,"  exclaimed  Malcolm.  "  She'll  be  here  in 
such  a  little  while." 

The  man  looked  uneasy.  Presently  he  walked 
over  to  the  window  and  scraped  a  peep-hole 
on  the  frosted  pane  with  his  dirty  thumb- 
nail. "  Sun's  down,"  he  said.  "  I'd  like  to  get 
that  bear's  foot  fixed  comfortable  before  it 
grows  any  darker.  I'd  like  to  mighty  well. 
It'll  take  some  time  to  heat  water  to  dress  it. 
Is  that  cabin  far  from  here  ? " 


26        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  Not  if  we  go  in  at  the  back  of  the  place," 
said  Malcolm.  "  It's  just  across  the  meadow, 
and  over  a  little  hill.  If  we  went  around  by 
the  big  front  gate  it  would  be  a  good  deal 
longer." 

The  man  shifted  uneasily  from  one  foot 
to  another,  and  complained  of  being  hungry. 
He  was  growing  desperate.  For  more  reasons 
than  one  he  did  not  want  to  be  at  the  station 
when  the  train  came  in.  That  long  red  scar 
across  his  face  had  been  described  a  number  of 
times  in  the  newspapers,  and  he  did  not  care 
to  be  recognised  just  then. 

The  boys  could  not  have  told  how  it  came 
about,  but  in  a  few  minutes  they  were  leading 
the  way  toward  the  cabin.  The  man  had  per- 
suaded them  that  it  was  not  at  all  necessary  to 
wait  for  their  Aunt  Allison's  permission,  and 
that  it  was  needless  to  trouble  their  grand- 
mother. Why  should  the  ladies  be  bothered 
about  a  matter  that  the  boys  were  old  enough 
to  decide  ?  So  well  had  he  argued,  and  so  tact- 
fully had  he  flattered  them,  that  when  they  took 
their  way  across  the  field,  it  was  with  the  feel- 
ing that  they  were  doing  their  highest  duty 
in  getting  these  homeless  wayfarers  to  the 


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fWO    TRAMPS    AND    A    BEAR.  20 

cabin  as  quickly  as  possible,  on  their  own 
responsibility. 

"  We  can  get  back  in  time  to  meet  the  train,  if 
we  hurry,"  said  Malcolm,  looking  at  his  watch 
again.  "  There's  still  fifteen  minutes." 

No  one  saw  the  little  procession  file  out  of 
the  waiting-room  and  across  the  snowy  field,  for 
it  was  growing  dark,  and  the  lamps  were 
lighted  and  the  curtains  drawn  in  the  few 
houses  they  passed.  Malcolm  went  first, 
proudly  leading  the  friendly  old  bear.  Jonesy 
came  next  beside  Keith,  and  the  man  shuffled 
along  in  the  rear,  looking  around  with  sus- 
picious glances  whenever  a  twig  snapped,  or 
a  distant  dog  barked. 

As  the  wind  struck  against  Jonesy's  body,  he 
drew  the  bit  of  blanket  more  closely  around 
him,  and  coughed  hoarsely.  His  teeth  were 
chattering  and  his  lips  blue.  "  You  look 
nearly  frozen,"  said  Keith,  who,  well-clad  and 
well-fed,  scarcely  felt  the  cold.  "  Here !  put 
this  on,  or  you'll  be  sick."  Unbuttoning  his 
thick  little  reefer,  he  pulled  it  off  and  tied 
its  sleeves  around  Jonesy's  neck. 

A  strange  look  passed  over  the  face  of  the 
man  behind  them.  "  Blessed  if  the  little  kid 


30      TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

didn't  take  it  off  his  own  back,"  he  muttered. 
"  If  any  man  had  ever  done  that  for  me  —  just 
once  —  well,  maybe,  I  wouldn't  ha'  been  what 
I  am  now  !  " 

For  a  moment,  as  they  reached  the  top  of 
the  hill,  bear,  boys,  and  man  were  outlined 
blackly  against  the  sky  like  strange  silhouettes. 
Then  they  passed  over  and  disappeared  in  the 
thick  clump  of  pine-trees,  which  hid  the  little 
cabin  from  the  eyes  of  the  surrounding  world. 


CHAPTER   II. 

GINGER    AND    THE   BOYS. 

IN  less  time  than  one  would  think  possible, 
a  big  fire  was  roaring  in  the  cabin  fireplace, 
water  was  steaming  in  the  rusty  kettle  on  the 
crane,  and  a  pile  of  hay  and  old  carpet  lay  in 
one  corner,  ready  to  be  made  into  a  bed.  Keith 
had  made  several  trips  to  the  kitchen,  and  came 
back  each  time  with  his  hands  full. 

Old  Daphne,  the  cook,  never  could  find  it  in 
her  heart  to  refuse  "  Marse  Sydney's "  boys 
anything.  They  were  too  much  like  what  their 
father  had  been  at  their  age  to  resist  their 
playful  coaxing.  She  had  nursed  him  when  he 
was  a  baby,  and  had  been  his  loyal  champion 
all  through  his  boyhood.  Now  her  black  face 
wrinkled  into  smiles  whenever  she  heard  his 
name  spoken.  In  her  eyes,  nobody  was  quite 
so  near  perfection  as  he,  except,  perhaps,  the 
fair  woman  whom  he  had  married. 
31 


32        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  Kain't  nobody  in  ten  States  hole  a  can'le  to 
my  Marse  Sidney  an'  his  Miss  Elise,"  old 
Daphne  used  to  say,  proudly.  "  They  sut'n'ly 
is  the  handsomest  couple  evah  jined  togethah, 
an'  the  free-handedest.  In  all  they  travels 
by  sea  or  by  land  they  nevah  fo'gits  ole 
Daphne.  I've  got  things  from  every  country 
undah  the  shinin'  sun  what  they  done  brung 
me." 

Now,  all  the  services  she  had  once  been 
proud  to  render  them  were  willingly  given  to 
their  little  sons.  When  Keith  came  in  with 
a  pitiful  tale  of  a  tramp  who  was  starving  at 
their  very  gates,  she  gave  him  even  more  than 
he  asked  for,  and  almost  more  than  he  could 
carry. 

The  bear  and  its  masters  were  so  hungry, 
and  their  two  little  hosts  so  interested  in  v;atch- 
ing  them  eat,  that  they  forgot  all  about  going 
back  to  meet  the  train.  They  did  not  even 
hear  it  whistle  when  it  came  puffing  into  the 
Valley. 

As  Miss  Allison  stepped  from  the  car  to  the 
station  platform,  she  looked  around  in  vain  for 
the  boys  who  had  promised  to  meet  her.  Her 
arms  were  so  full  of  bundles,  as  suburban  pas- 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  33 

sengers'  usually  are,  that  she  could  not  hold  up 
her  long  broadcloth  skirt,  or  even  turn  her 
handsome  fur  collar  higher  over  her  ears.  With 
a  shade  of  annoyance  on  her  pretty  face,  she 
swept  across  the  platform  and  into  the  waiting- 
room,  out  of  the  cold. 

Behind  her  came  a  little  girl  about  ten  years 
old,  as  unlike  her  as  possible,  although  it  was 
Virginia  Dudley's  ambition  to  be  exactly  like  her 
Aunt  Allison.  She  wanted  to  be  tall,  and  slen- 
der, and  grown  up  ;  Miss  Allison  was  that,  and 
yet  she  had  kept  all  her  lively  girlish  ways,  and 
a  love  of  fun  that  made  her  charming  to 
everybody,  young  and  old.  Virginia  longed 
for  wavy  brown  hair  and  white  hands,  and 
especially  for  a  graceful,  easy  manner.  Her 
hair  was  short  and  black,  and  her  complexion 
like  a  gypsy's.  She  had  hard,  brown  little 
fists,  sharp  gray  eyes  that  seemed  to  see 
everything  at  once,  and  a  tongue  that  was 
always  getting  her  into  trouble.  As  for 
the  ease  of  manner,  that  might  come  in  time, 
but  her  stately  old  grandmother  often  sighed  in 
secret  over  Virginia's  awkwardness. 

She  stumbled  now  as  she  followed  the  young 
lady  into  the  waiting-room.  Her  big,  plume- 


34        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 


covered  hat  tipped  over  one  ear,  but  she,  too, 
had  so  many  bundles,  that  she  could  not  spare  a 
hand  to  straighten 
it. 

"  Well,  Virginia, 
what  do  you  sup- 
pose has  become 
of  the  boys  ? " 
asked  her  aunt. 
"They  promised 
to  meet  us  and 
carry  our  pack- 
ages." 

"  I  heard  them 
in  here  about  half 
an  hour  ago,  Miss 
Allison,"  said  the 
station-master,  who 
had  come  in  with  a 
lantern.  "  I  s'pose 
they  got  tired  of 
waiting.  Better 
leave  your  things 
here,  hadn't  you  ? 
I'll  watch  them. 
It  is  mighty  slippery  walking  this  evening." 


GINGER    AND    THE   BOYS.  35 

"  Oh,  thank  you,  Mr.  Mason,"  she  answered, 
beginning  to  pile  boxes  and  packages  upon  a 
bench.  I'll  send  Pete  down  for  them  immedi- 
ately. Now,  Virgin:'^,  turn  up  your  coat  collar 
and  hold  your  muff  over  your  nose,  or  Jack 
Frost  will  make  an  icicle  out  of  you  before 
you  are  half-way  home. 

They  had  been  in  the  house  some  time 
before  the  boys  remembered  their  promise  to 
meet  them  at  the  station.  When  they  saw 
how  late  it  was,  they  started  home  on  the  run. 

"  I  am  fairly  aching  to  tell  Ginger  about  that 
bear,"  panted  Keith,  as  they  reached  the  side 
door.  "  I  am  so  sorry  that  we  promised  the  man 
not  to  say  anything  about  them  being  on  the 
place,  before  he  sees  us  again  to-morrow.  I 
wonder  why  he  asked  us  that." 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Malcolm.  "He 
seemed  to  have  some  very  good  reason,  and  he 
talked  about  it  so  that  it  didn't  seem  right  not 
to  promise  a  little  thing  like  that." 

"  I  wish  we  hadn't,  though,"  said  Keith, 
again. 

"  But  it's  done  now,"  persisted  Malcolm. 
"  We're  bound  not  to  tell,  and  you  can't  get 
out  of  it,  for  he  made  us  give  him  our  word  '  on 


36        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

the  honour  of  a  gentleman  ; '  and  that  settles  it, 
you  know." 

They  were  two  very  dirty  boys  who  clattered 
up  the  back  stairs,  and  raced  to  their  room  to 
dress  for  dinner.  Their  clothes  were  covered 
with  hayseed  and  straw,  and  their  hands  and 
faces  were  black  with  soot  from  the  old  cabin 
chimney.  They  had  both  helped  to  build  the  fire. 

The  lamps  had  just  been  lighted  in  the  upper 
hall,  and  Virginia  came  running  out  from  her 
room  when  she  heard  the  boys'  voices. 

"Why  didn't  you  meet  us  at  the  train  ? "  she 
began,  but  stopped  as  she  saw  their  dirty  faces. 
"Where  on  earth  have  you  chimney-sweeps 
been  ? "  she  cried. 

"  Oh,  about  and  about,"  answered  Malcolm, 
teasingly.  "  Don't  you  wish  you  knew  ?  " 

Virginia  shrugged  her  shoulders,  as  if  she 
had  not  the  slightest  interest  in  the  matter, 
and  held  out  two  packages. 

"  Here  are  the  valentines  you  sent  for.  You 
just  ought  to  see  the  pile  that  Aunt  Allison 
bought.  We've  the  best  secret  about  to-mor- 
row that  ever  was." 

"So  have  we,"  began  Keith,  but  Malcolm 
clapped  a  sooty  hand  over  his  mouth  and  pulled 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  37 

him  toward  the  door  of  their  room.  •'  Come 
on,"  he  said.  "  We've  barely  time  to  dress  for 
dinner.  Don't  you  ki.jw  enough  to  keep  still, 
you  little  magpie  ? "  he  exclaimed,  as  the  door 
banged  behind  them.  "  The  only  way  to  keep 
a  secret  is  not  to  act  like  you  have  one !  " 

Virginia  walked  slowly  back  to  her  room  and 
paused  in  the  doorway,  wondering  what  she 
could  do  to  amuse  herself  until  dinner-time. 
It  was  a  queer  room  for  a  girl,  decorated 
with  flags  and  Indian  trophies  and  every- 
thing that  could  remind  her  of  the  military  life 
she  loved,  at  the  far-away  army  post.  There 
were  photographs  framed  in  brass  buttons  on 
her  dressing-table,  and  pictures  of  uniformed 
officers  all  over  the  walls.  A  canteen  and  an 
army  cap  with  a  bullet -hole  through  the  crown, 
hung  over  her  desk,  and  a  battered  bugle,  that 
had  sounded  many  a  triumphant  charge,  swung 
from  the  corner  of  her  mirror. 

Each  souvenir  had  a  history,  and  had  been 
given  her  at  parting  by  some  special  friend. 
Every  one  at  the  fort  had  made  a  pet  of  Cap- 
tain Dudley's  daughter,  —  the  harum-scarum 
little  Ginger,  —  who  would  rather  dash  across 
the  prairies  on  her  pony,  like  a  wild  Comanche 


38        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

Indian,  than  play  with  the  finest  doll  ever 
imported  from  Paris. 

There  was  a  suit  in  her  wardrobe,  short  skirt, 
jacket,  leggins,  and  moccasins,  all  made  and 
beaded  by  the  squaws.  It  was  the  gift  of  the 
colonel's  wife.  Mrs.  Dudley  had  hesitated 
some  time  before  putting  it  in  one  of  the 
trunks  that  was  to  go  back  to  Kentucky. 

"  You  look  so  much  like  an  Indian  now,"  she 
said  to  Virginia.  "  Your  face  is  so  sunburned 
that  I  am  afraid  your  grandmother  will  be  scan- 
dalised. I  don't  know  what  she  would  say  if 
she  knew  that  I  ever  allowed  you  to  run  so 
wild.  If  I  had  known  that  you  were  going 
back  to  civilisation  I  certainly  should  not  have 
kept  your  hair  cut  short,  and  you  should  have 
worn  sunbonnets  all  summer." 

To  Mrs.  Dudley's  great  surprise,  her  little 
daughter  threw  herself  into  her  arms,  sobbing, 
' "  Oh,  mamma !  I  don't  want  to  go  back  to 
Kentucky !  Take  me  to 'Cuba  with  you  !  Please 
do,  or  else  let  me  stay  here  at  the  post.  Every- 
body will  take  care  of  me  here!  I'll  just  die  if 
you  leave  me  in  Kentucky  !  " 

"Why,  darling,"  she  said,  soothingly,  as  she 
wiped  her  tears  away  and  rocked  her  back  and 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  39 

forth  in  her  arms,  "  I  thought  you  have  always 
wanted  to  see  mamma's  old  home,  and  the 
places  you  have  heard  so  much  about.  There 
are  all  the  old  toys  in  the  nursery  that  we  had 
when  we  were  children,  and  the  grape-vine  swing 
in  the  orchard,  and  the  mill-stream  where  we 
fished,  and  the  beech-woods  where  we  had  such 
delightful  picnics.  I  thought  it  would  be  so 
nice  for  you  to  do  all  the  same  things  that 
made  me  so  happy  when  I  was  a  child,  and 
go  to  school  in  the  same  old  Girls'  College 
and  know  all  the  dear  old  neighbours  that  I 
knew.  Wouldn't  my  little  girl  like  that  ?  " 

"  Oh,  yes,  some,  I  s'pose,"  sobbed  Virginia, 
"but  I  didn't  know  I'd  have  to  be  so  —  so  — 
everlastingly  —  civilised  !  "  she  wailed.  "  I  don't 
want  to  always  have  to  dress  just  so,  and  have  to 
walk  in  a  path  and  be  called  Virginia  all  the  time. 
That  sounds  so  stiff  and  proper.  I'd  rather 
stay  where  people  don't  mind  if  I  am  sun- 
burned and  tanned,  and  won't  be  scandalised 
at  everything  I  do.  It's  so  much  nicer  to  be 
just  plain  Ginger  !  " 

It  had  been  five  months,  now,  since  Virginia 
left  Fort  Dennis.  At  first  she  had  locked  her^ 
self  in  her  room  nearly  every  day,  and,  with  her 


40       TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

face  buried  in  her  Indian  suit,  cried  to  go  back. 
She  missed  the  gay  military  life  of  the  army 
post,  as  a  sailor  would  miss  the  sea,  or  an 
Alpine  shepherd  the  free  air  of  his  snow-capped 
mountain  heights. 

It  was  not  that  she  did  not  enjoy  being  at 
her  grandmother's.  She  liked  the  great  gray 
house  whose  square  comer  tower  and  over- 
hanging vines  made  it  look  like  an  old  castle. 
She  liked  the  comfort  and  elegance  of  the  big, 
stately  rooms,  and  she  had  her  grandmother's 
own  pride  in  the  old  family  portraits  and  the 
beautiful  carved  furniture.  The  negro  ser- 
vants seemed  so  queer  and  funny  to  her  that 
she  found  them  a  great  source  of  amusement, 
and  her  Aunt  Allison  planned  so  many  pleasant 
occupations  outside  of  school-hours  that  she 
scarcely  had  time  to  get  lonesome.  But  she 
had  a  shut-in  feeling,  like  a  wild  bird  in  a  cage, 
and  sometimes  the  longing  for  liberty  which 
her  mother  had  allowed  her  made  her  fret 
against  the  thousand  little  proprieties  she  had  to 
observe.  Sometimes  when  she  went  tipping 
over  the  polished  floors  of  the  long  drawing 
room,  and  caught  sight  of  herself  in  one  of  the 
big  mirrors,  she  felt  that  she  was  not  herself  at 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  4! 

all,  but  somebody  in  a  story.  The  Virginia  in 
the  looking-glass  seemed  so  very,  very  civilised. 
More  than  once,  after  one  of  these  meetings  with 
herself  in  the  mirror,  she  dashed  up-stairs,  locked 
her  door,  and  dressed  herself  in  her  Indian  suit. 
Then  in  her  noiseless  moccasins  she  danced 
the  wildest  of  war-dances,  whispering  shrilly 
between  her  teeth,  "  Now  I'm  Ginger !  Now 
I'm  Ginger !  And  I  wont  be  dressed  up,  and  I 
wont  learn  my  lessons,  and  I  wont  be  a  little 
lady,  and  I'll  run  away  and  go  back  to  Fort 
Dennis  the  very  first  chance  I  get !  " 

Usually  she  was  ashamed  of  these  outbursts 
afterwards,  for  it  always  happened  that  after 
each  one  she  found  her  Aunt  Allison  had 
planned  something  especially  pleasant  for  her 
entertainment.  Miss  Allison  felt  sorry  for  the 
lonely  child,  who  had  never  been  separated 
from  her  father  and  mother  before,  so  she 
devoted  her  time  to  her  as  much  as  possible, 
telling  her  stories  and  entering  into  her  plays 
and  pleasures  as  if  they  had  both  been  the  same 
age. 

Since  the  boys  had  come,  Virginia  had  not 
had  a  single  homesick  moment.  While  she 
was  at  school  in  the  primary  department  of 


42        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

the  Girls'  College,  Malcolm  and  Keith  were 
reciting  their  lessons  to  the  old  minister  who 
lived  across  the  road  from  Mrs.  Maclntyre's. 
They  were  all  free  about  the  same  hour,  and 
even  on  the  coldest  days  played  out-of-doors 
from  lunch-time  until  dark. 

To-night  Virginia  had  so  many  experiences 
to  tell  them  of  her  day  in  town  that  the  boys 
seemed  unusually  long  in  dressing.  She  was 
so  impatient  for  them  to  hear  her  news  that 
she  could  not  settle  down  to  anything,  but 
walked  restlessly  around  the  room,  wishing  they 
would  hurry. 

"  Oh,  I  haven't  sorted  my  valentines !  "  she 
exclaimed,  presently,  picking  up  a  fancy  box 
which  she  had  tossed  on  the  bed  when  she  first 
came  in.  "  I'll  take  them  down  to  the  library." 

There  was  no  one  in  the  room  when  she 
peeped  in.  It  looked  so  bright  and  cosy  with 
the  great  wood  fire  blazing  on  the  hearth  and 
the  rose-coloured  light  falling  from  its  softly 
shaded  lamps,  that  she  forgot  the  coldness  of 
the  night  outside.  Sitting  down  on  a  pile  of 
cushions  at  one  end  of  the  hearth-rug,  she 
began  sorting  her  purchases,  trying  to  decide 
to  whom  each  one  should  be  sent. 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS. 


43 


"  The  prettiest  valentine  of  all  must  go  to 
poor  papa,"  she  said  to  herself,  "  'cause  he's 
been  so  sick  away  down  there  in  Cuba ;  and 
this  one  that's  got  the  little  girl  on  it  in  a 


blue  dress  shall  be  for  my  dear,  sweet  mamma, 
'cause  it  will  make  her  think  of  me." 

For  a  moment,  a  mist  seemed  to  blur  the 
gay  blue  dress  of  the  little  valentine  girl  as 
Virginia  looked  at  her,  thinking  of  her  far-away 
mother.  She  drew  her  hand  hastily  across  her 
eyes  and  went  on  : 


44        TW0    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"This  one  is  for  Sergeant  Jackson  out  at 
Fort  Dennis,  and  the  biggest  one,  with  the 
doves,  for  Colonel  Philips  and  his  wife.  Dear 
me !  I  wish  I  could  send  one  to  every  officer 
and  soldier  out  there.  They  were  all  so  good 
to  me ! " 

The  pile  of  lace-paper  cupids  and  hearts  and 
arrows  and  roses  slipped  from  her  lap,  down  to 
the  rug,  as  she  clasped  her  hands  around  her 
knees  and  looked  into  the  fire.  She  wished 
that  she  could  be  back  again  at  the  fort,  long 
enough  to  live  one  of  those  beautiful  old  days 
from  reveille  to  taps.  How  she  loved  the  bugle- 
calls  and  the  wild  thrill  the  band  gave  her,  when 
it  struck  up  a  burst  of  martial  music,  and  the 
troops  went  dashing  by  !  How  she  missed  the 
drills  and  the  dress  parades ;  her  rides  across 
the  open  prairie  on  her  pony,  beside  her  father ; 
how  she  missed  the  games  she  used  to  play 
with  the  other  children  at  the  fort  on  the  long 
summer  evenings ! 

Something  more  than  a  mist  was  gathering  in 
her  eyes  now.  Two  big  tears  were  almost  ready 
to  fall  when  the  door  opened  and  Mrs.  Maclntyre 
came  in.  In  Virginia's  eyes  she  was  the  most 
beautiful  grandmother  any  one  ever  had.  She 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  45 

was  not  so  tall  as  her  daughter  Allison,  and  in 
that  respect  fell  short  of  the  little  girl's  ideal, 
but  her  hair,  white  as  snow,  curled  around  her 
face  in  the  same  soft,  pretty  fashion,  and  by 
every  refined  feature  she  showed  her  kinship 
to  the  aristocratic  old  faces  which  looked  down 
from  the  family  portraits  in  the  hall. 

"  I  couldn't  be  as  stately  and  dignified  as  she 
is  if  I  practised  a  thousand  years,"  thought  Vir- 
ginia, scrambling  up  from  the  pile  of  cushions 
to  roll  a  chair  nearer  the  fire.  As  she  did  so, 
her  heel  caught  in  the  rug,  and  she  fell  back  in 
an  awkward  little  heap. 

"The  more  haste,  the  less  grace,  my  dear," 
said  her  grandmother,  kindly,  thanking  her  for 
the  proffered  chair.  Virginia  blushed,  wonder- 
ing why  she  always  appeared  so  awkward  in  her 
grandmother's  presence.  She  envied  the  boys 
because  they  never  seemed  embarrassed  or  ill 
at  ease  before  her. 

While  she  was  picking  up  her  valentines  the 
boys  came  in.  If  two  of  the  cavalier  ancestors 
had  stepped  down  from  their  portrait  frames 
just  then,  they  could  not  have  come  into  the 
room  in  a  more  charming  manner  than  Malcolm 
and  Keith.  Their  faces  were  shining,  their 


46   TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

linen  spotless,  and  they  came  up  to  kiss  their 
grandmother's  cheek  with  an  old-time  courtli- 
ness that  delighted  her. 

"  I  am  sure  that  there  are  no  more  perfect 
gentlemen  in  all  Kentucky  than  my  two  little 
lads,"  she  said,  fondly,  with  an  approving  pat 
of  Keith's  hand  as  she  held  him  a  moment. 

Virginia,  who  had  seen  them  half  an  hour 
before,  tousled  and  dirty,  and  had  been  arrayed 
against  them  in  more  than  one  hot  quarrel 
where  they  had  been  anything  but  chivalrous, 
let  slip  a  faintly  whistled  "cuckoo!" 

The  boys  darted  a  quick  glance  in  her  direc- 
tion, but  she  was  bending  over  the  valentines 
with  a  very  serious  face,  which  never  changed 
its  expression  till  her  Aunt  Allison  came  in 
and  the  boys  began  their  apologies  for  not 
meeting  her  at  the  train.  Their  only  excuse 
was  that  they  had  forgotten  all  about  it. 

Virginia  spelled  on  her  fingers  :  "  I  dare  you 
to  tell  what  made  your  faces  so  black  !  "  Keith's 
only  answer  was  to  thrust  his  tongue  out  at  her 
behind  his  grandmother's  back.  Then  he  ran 
to  hold  the  door  open  for  the  ladies  to  pass 
out  to  dinner,  with  all  the  grace  of  a  young 
Chesterfield. 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  4/ 

When  dinner  was  over  and  they  were  back 
in  the  library,  Miss  Allison  opened  a  box  of 
tiny  heart-shaped  envelopes,  and  began  ad- 
dressing them.  As  she  took  up  her  pen  she 
said,  merrily  :  "  Now  you  may  tell  our  secret, 
Virginia." 

"  I  was  going  to  make  you  guess  for  about 
an  hour,"  said  Virginia,  "  but  it  is  so  nice  I 
can't  wait  that  long  to  tell  you.  We  are  going 
to  have  a  valentine  party  to-morrow  night. 
Aunt  Allison  planned  it  all  a  week  ago,  and 
bought  the  things  for  it  while  we  were  in  town 
to-day.  Everything  on  the  table  is  to  be  cut 
in  heart  shape,  —  the  bread  and  butter  and 
sandwiches  and  cheese ;  and  the  ice-cream  will 
be  moulded  in  hearts,  and  the  two  big  frosted 
cakes  are  hearts,  one  pink  and  one  white,  with 
candy  arrows  sticking  in  them.  Then  there 
will  be  peppermint  candy  hearts  with  mottoes 
printed  on  them,  and  lace-paper  napkins  with 
verses  on  them,  so  that  the  table  itself  will  look 
like  a  lovely  big  valentine.  The  games  are 
lovely,  too.  One  is  parlour  archery,  with  a  red 
heart  in  the  middle  of  the  target,  and  two 
prizes,  one  for  the  boys  and  one  for  the 
girls." 


48        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"Who  are  invited?"  asked  Malcolm,  as 
Virginia  stopped  for  breath. 

"Oh,  the  Carrington  boys,  and  the  Edmunds, 
and  Sally  Fairfax,  and  Julia  Ferris,  —  I  can't 
remember  them  all.  There  will  be  twenty-four, 
counting  us.  There  is  the  list  on  the  table." 

Keith  reached  for  it,  and  began  slowly  spell- 
ing out  the  names.  "  Who  is  this  ?  "  he  asked, 
reading  the  name  that  headed  the  list.  "  '  The 
Little  Colonel ! '  I  never  heard  of  him." 

"  Oh,  he's  a  girl !  "  laughed  Virginia.  "  Little 
Lloyd  Sherman,  —  don't  you  know  ?  She  lives 
up  at  'The  Locusts,'  that  lovely  place  with  the 
long  avenue  of  trees  leading  up  to  the  house. 
You've  surely  seen  her  with  her  grandfather, 
old  Colonel  Lloyd,  riding  by  on  the  horse  that 
he  calls  Maggie  Boy." 

"  Has  he  only  one  arm  ?  "  asked  Malcolm. 

"  Yes,  the  other  was  shot  off  in  the  war  years 
ago.  Well,  when  Lloyd  was  younger,  she  had 
a  temper  so  much  like  his,  and  wore  such  a  dear 
little  Napoleon  hat,  that  everybody  took  to 
calling  her  the  Little  Colonel." 

"  How  old  is  she  now  ?  "  asked  Malcolm. 

"About  Keith's  age,  isn't  she,  Aunt  Allison  ? " 
askifd  Virginia. 


GINGER    AND    THE    BOYS.  49 

"Yes,"  was  the  answer.  "She  is  nearly 
eight,  I  believe.  She  has  outgrown  most  of 
her  naughtiness  now." 

"  I  love  to  hear  her  talk,"  said  Virginia.  "  She 
leaves  out  all  of  her  r's  in  such  a  soft,  sweet 
way." 

"All  Southerners  do  that,"  said  Malcolm, 
pompously,  "and  I  think  it  sounds  lots  better 
than  the  way  Yankees  talk." 

"You  boys  don't  talk  like  the  Little  Colonel," 
retorted  Virginia,  who  had  often  been  teased  by 
them  for  not  being  a  Southerner.  "  You're  all 
mixed  up  every  which  way.  Some  things  you 
say  like  darkeys,  and  some  things  like  English 
people,  and  it  doesn't  sound  a  bit  like  the  Little 
Colonel." 

"  Oh,  well,  that's  because  we've  travelled 
abroad  so  much,  don't  you  know,"  drawled 
Malcolm,  "  and  we've  been  in  so  many  different 
countries,  and  had  an  English  tutor,  and  all  that 
sort  of  a  thing.  We  couldn't  help  picking  up 
a  bit  of  an  accent,  don't  you  know."  His  supe- 
rior tone  made  Virginia  long  to  slap  him. 

"Yes,  I  know,  Mr.  Brag,"  she  said,  in  such 
a  low  voice  that  her  grandmother  could  not 
hear.  "I  know  perfectly  well.  If  I  didn't  it 


5O        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

wouldn't  be  because  you  haven't  told  me  every 
chance  you  got.  Who  did  you  say  is  your 
tailor  in  London,  and  how  many  times  was  it 
the  Queen  invited  you  out  to  Windsor  ?  I  think 
it's  a  ninety-nine  dollar  cravat  you  always  buy, 
isn't  it  ?  And  you  wouldn't  be  so  common 
as  to  wear  a  pair  of  gloves  that  hadn't  been 
made  to  order  specially  for  you.  Yes,  I've 
heard  all  about  it !  " 

Miss  Allison  heard,  but  said  nothing.  She 
knew  the  boys  were  a  little  inclined  to  boast, 
and  she  thought  Virginia's  sharp  tongue  might 
have  a  good  effect.  But  the  retort  had  grown 
somewhat  sharper  than  was  pleasant,  and,  fear- 
ing a  quarrel  might  follow  if  she  did  not  inter- 
rupt the  whispers  beside  her,  she  said  : 

"  Boys,  did  you  ever  hear  about  the  time  that 
the  Little  Colonel  threw  mud  on  her  grand- 
father's coat  ?  There's  no  end  to  her  pranks. 
Get  grandmother  to  tell  you." 

"  Oh,  yes,  please, grandmother, "begged  Keith, 
with  an  arm  around  her  neck.  "Tell  about 
Fritz  and  the  parrot,  too,"  said  Virginia.  "  Here, 
Malcolm,  there's  room  on  this  side  for  you." 

Aunt  Allison  smiled.  The  storm  had  blown 
over,  and  they  were  all  friends  again. 


DAPHNE,  WHAT'S  DEM  CHILLUN  ALLUZ  RACIN'  DOWN 
TO  DE  SPRING-HOUSE  FO*  ?  '  " 


CHAPTER   III. 

THE    VALENTINE    PARTY. 

"  Now  we  can  tell  Ginger  about  the  bear," 
was  Keith's  first  remark,  when  he  awoke  early 
next  morning. 

"  But  not  until  after  we  have  seen  the  man 
again,"  answered  Malcolm.  "  You  know  we 
promised  him  that." 

"Then  let's  go  down  before  breakfast," 
exclaimed  Keith,  springing  out  of  bed  and 
beginning  to  dress  himself.  A  little  while 
later,  the  old  coloured  coachman  saw  them 
run  past  the  window,  where  he  was  warming 
himself  by  the  kitchen  stove. 

"Daphne,"  he  called  out  to  the  cook,  who 
was  beating  biscuit  in  the  adjoining  pantry, 
"  Daphne,  what's  dem  chillun  alluz  racin'  down 
to  de  spring-house  fo'  in  de  snow  ?  Peah's  lak 
dee  has  a  heap  o'  business  down  yandah." 

Daphne,  who  had  just  been  coaxed  into  filling: 
53 


54   Two  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

a  basket  with  a  generous  supply  of  cold  victuals, 
pretended  not  to  hear  until  he  repeated  his 
question.  Then  she  stopped  pounding  long 
enough  to  say,  sharply,  "  Whuff o'  you  alluz 
'spicion  dem  boys  so  evahlastin'ly,  Unc'  Henry  ? 
Lak  enough  dee's  settin'  a  rabbit  trap.  Boys 
has  done  such  things  befo'.  You's  done  it 
yo'se'f,  hasn't  you?" 

Daphne  had  seen  them  setting  rabbit  traps 
there,  but  she  knew  well  enough  that  was  not 
what  they  had  gone  for  now,  and  that  the  food 
they  carried  was  not  for  the  game  of  Robinson 
Crusoe,  which  they  had  played  in  the  deserted 
cabin  the  summer  before.  Still,  she  did  not  care 
to  take  Unc'  Henry  into  her  confidence. 

The  food,  the  warmth,  and  the  night's  rest 
had  so  restored  the  bear  that  it  was  able  to 
go  through  all  its  performances  for  the  boys' 
entertainment,  although  it  limped  badly. 

"Isn't  he  a  dandy?"  cried  Keith;  "I  wish 
we  had  one.  It's  nicer  than  any  pets  we  ever 
had,  except  the  ponies.  Something  always 
happened  to  the  dogs,  and  the  monkey  was 
such  a  nuisance,  and  the  white  rabbits  were 
stolen,  and  the  guinea  pigs  died." 

"  Haven't  we  had  a  lot  of  things,  when  you 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  55 

come  to  think  of  it?"  exclaimed  Malcolm. 
"  Squirrels,  and  white  mice,  and  the  coon  that 
Uncle  Harry  brought  us,  and  the  parrot  from 
Mexico." 

"Yes,  and  the  gold-fish,  and  the  little  baby 
alligator  that  froze  to  death  in  its  tank,"  added 
Keith.  "  But  a  bear  like  this  would  be  nicer 
than  any  of  them.  As  soon  as  papa  comes 
home  I  am  going  to  ask  him  to  buy  us  one." 

"Jonesy's  nearly  done  for,"  said  the  tramp, 
pointing  to  the  boy  who  lay  curled  up  in  the 
hay,  coughing  at  nearly  every  breath.  "We 
ought  to  stay  here  another  day,  if  you  young 
gen'lemen  don't  object." 

"Oh,  goody!"  cried  Keith.  "Then  we  can 
bring  Ginger  down  to  see  the  bear  perform." 

"  Yes,"  answered  the  man,  "  we'll  give  a 
free  show  to  all  your  friends,  if  you  will  only 
kindly  wait  till  to-morrow.  Give  us  one  more 
day  to  rest  up  and  get  in  a  little  better  trim. 
The  poor  beast's  foot  is  still  too  lame  for  him 
to  do  his  best,  and  you're  too  kind-hearted,  I 
am  sure,  to  want  anything  to  suffer  in  order 
to  give  you  pleasure." 

"  Of  course,"  answered  both  the  boys,  agree- 
ing so  quickly  to  all  the  man's  smooth  speeches 


5 6        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

that,  before  they  left  the  cabin,  they  had  re- 
newed their  promise  to  keep  silent  one  more 
day.  The  man  was  a  shrewd  one,  and  knew 
well  how  to  make  these  unsuspecting  little 
souls  serve  his  purpose,  like  puppets  tied  to  a 
string. 

Miss  Allison  was  so  busy  with  preparations 
for  the  party  that  she  had  no  time  all  that  day 
to  notice  what  the  boys  were  doing.  When 
they  came  back  from  reciting  their  lessons  to 
the  minister,  she  sent  them  on  several  errands, 
but  the  rest  of  the  time  they  divided  between 
the  cabin  and  the  post-office. 

Every  mail  brought  a  few  valentines  to  each 
of  them,  but  it  was  not  until  the  five  o'clock 
train  came  that  they  found  the  long-looked-for 
letters  from  their  father  and  mother. 

"I  knew  they'd  each  send  us  a  valentine," 
cried  Keith,  tearing  both  of  his  open.  "  I'll 
bet  that  papa's  is  a  comic  one.  Yes,  here  it 
is.  Papa  is  such  a  tease.  Isn't  it  a  stunner  ? 
a  base-ball  player.  And,  whoopee  !  Here's  a 
dollar  bill  in  each  of  'em." 

"  So  there  is  in  mine,"  said  Malcolm. 
"  Mamma  says  we  are  to  buy  anything  we 
want,  and  call  it  a  valentine.  They  couldn't 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  57 

find  anything  down  on  the  coast  that  they 
thought  we  would  like." 

"  I  don't  know  what  to  get  with  mine,"  said 
Keith,  folding  his  two  bills  together.  "  Seems 
to  me  I  have  everything  I  want  except  a  cam- 
era, and  I  couldn't  buy  the  kind  I  want  for  two 
dollars." 

They  were  half-way  home  when  a  happy 
thought  came  to  Malcolm.  "  Keith,"  he  cried, 
excitedly,  "  if  you  would  put  your  money  with 
mine,  that  would  make  four  dollars,  and  maybe 
it  would  be  enough  to  buy  that  bear  ! " 

"  Let's  do  it !  "  exclaimed  Keith,  turning  a 
handspring  in  the  snow  to  show  his  delight. 
"  Come  on,  we'll  ask  the  man  now." 

But  the  man  shook  his  head,  when  they 
dashed  into  the  cabin  and  told  their  errand. 
"  No,  sonny,  that  ain't  a  tenth  of  what  it's 
worth  to  me,"  he  said.  "  I've  raised  that  bear 
from  the  time  it  was  a  teeny  cub.  I've  taught 
it,  and  fed  it,  and  looked  to  it  for  company 
when  I  hadn't  nobody  in  the  world  to  care  for 
me.  Couldn't  sell  that  bear  for  no  such  sum 
as  that.  Couldn't  you  raise  any  more  money 
than  that  ?  " 

It  was   Malcolm's  turn  to    shake   his  head. 


$8        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

He  turned  away,  too  disappointed  to  trust 
himself  to  answer  any  other  way.  The  tears 
sprang  to  Keith's  eyes.  He  had  set  his  heart 
on  having  that  bear. 

"  Never  mind,  brother,"  said  Malcolm,  mov- 
ing toward  the  door.  "Papa  will  get  us  one 
when  he  comes  home  and  finds  how  much  we 
want  one." 

"  Oh,  don't  be  in  such  a  hurry,  young  gen'le- 
men,"  whined  the  man,  when  he  saw  that  they 
were  really  going.  "  I  didn't  say  that  I  wouldn't 
sell  it  to  you  for  that  much.  You've  been  so 
kind  to  me  that  I  ought  to  be  willing  to  make 
any  sacrifice  for  you.  I  happen  to  need  four 
dollars  very  particular  just  now,  and  I've  a 
mind  to  sell  him  to  you  on  your  own  terms." 
He  paused  a  moment,  looking  thoughtfully  at 
a  crack  in  the  floor,  as  he  stood  by  the  fire  with 
his  hands  in  his  pockets.  "Yes,"  he  said,  at 
last,  "you  can  have  him  for  four  dollars,  if 
you'll  keep  mum  about  us  being  here  for  one 
more  day.  You  can  leave  the  bear  here  till  we 

go-" 

"  No  !  No  !  "  cried  Keith,  throwing  his  arms 
around  the  animal's  neck.  "  He  is  ours  now, 
and  we  must  take  him  with  us.  We  can  hide 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  59 

him  away  in  the  barn.  It  is  so  dark  out-doors 
now  that  nobody  will  see  us.  It  wouldn't  seem 
like  he  is  really  ours  if  we  couldn't  take  him 
with  us." 

After  some  grumbling  the  man  consented, 
and  pocketed  the  four  dollars,  first  asking  very 
particularly  the  exact  spot  in  the  barn  where 
they  expected  to  hide  their  huge  pet. 

Unc'  Henry,  coming  up  from  the  carriage- 
house  through  the  twilight,  thought  he  saw 
some  one  stealing  along  by  the  clump  of  cedars 
by  the  spring-house.  "  Who's  prowlin'  roun' 
dis  yere  premises  ? "  he  called.  There  was  no 
answer,  and,  after  peering  intently  through  the 
dusk  for  a  moment,  the  old  darkey  concluded 
that  he  must  have  been  mistaken,  and  passed 
on.  As  soon  as  he  was  gone,  the  boys  came 
out  from  behind  the  cedars,  and  crept  up  the 
snowy  hillside.  They  were  leading  the  bear 
between  them. 

"  We'll  put  him  away  back  in  the  hay-mow 
where  he'll  be  warm  and  comfortable  to-night," 
whispered  Malcolm.  "  Then  in  the  morning 
we  can  tell  everybody." 

While  they  were  busily  scooping  out  a  big 
hollow  in  the  hay,  they  were  startled  by  a 


6O        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

rustling  behind  them.  They  looked  into  each 
other's  frightened  faces,  and  then  glanced 
around  the  dark  barn  in  alarm.  An  old  cap 
pushed  up  through  the  hay.  Then  a  weak  little 
cough  betrayed  Jonesy.  He  had  followed  them, 

"  Sh  !  "  he  said,  in  a  warning  whisper.  "  I'm 
afraid  the  boss  will  find  out  that  I'm  here.  He 
started  to  the  store  for  some  tobacco  as  soon  as 
you  left.  He's  been  wild  fer  some,  but  didn't 
have  no  money.  Dorit  you  leave  that  bear 
out  here  to-night,  if  you  ever  expect  to  see  it 
again  !  That  wasn't  true  what  he  told  you. 
He  never  saw  the  bear  till  two  months  ago, 
and  he  sold  it  to  you  cheap  because  he's  a-goin' 
to  steal  it  back  again  to-night,  and  make  off  up 
the  road  with  it.  He  went  off  a-grinnin'  over 
the  slick  way  he'd  fooled  you,  and  I  jes'  had  to 
come  and  tell,  'cause  you've  been  so  good 
to  me.  I'll  never  forget  the  little  kid's  givin' 
me  the  coat  off  his  own  back,  if  I  live  to  be  a 
hundred.  Now  don't  blab  on  me,  or  the  boss 
would  nearly  kill  me." 

"Is  that  man  your  father?"  began  Keith, 
but  Jonesy,  alarmed  by  some  sudden  noise, 
sprang  to  the  door,  and  disappeared  in  the 
twilight. 


VALENTINE   PARTY.  6  1 


The  boys  looked  at  each  other  a  moment, 
with  surprise  and  indignation  in  their  faces. 
There  was  a  hurried  consultation  in  the  hay- 
mow. A  few  moments  later  the  boys  were 
smuggling  their  new  pet  into  the  house,  and  up 
the  back  stairs.  They  scarcely  dared  breathe 
until  it  was  safe  in  their  own  room. 

All  the  time  that  they  were  dressing  for  the 
party,  they  were  trying  to  decide  where  to  put 
it  for  the  night,  so  that  neither  the  tramp  nor 
the  family  could  discover  it.  What  Jonesy  had 
told  them  about  the  man's  dishonest  intention 
did  not  relieve  them  from  their  promise.  They 
were  amazed  that  any  one  could  be  so  mean, 
and  longed  to  tell  their  Aunt  Allison  all  about 
it  ;  still,  one  of  the  conditions  on  which  they 
had  bought  the  bear  was  that  they  were  to 
"keep  mum,"  and  they  stuck  strictly  to  that 
promise. 

By  the  time  they  were  dressed,  they  had 
decided  to  put  it  in  the  blue  room,  a  guest- 
chamber  in  the  north  wing,  seldom  used  in 
winter,  because  it  was  so  hard  to  heat.  "  No- 
body will  ever  think  of  coming  in  here,"  said 
Malcolm,  "and  it  will  be  plenty  warm  for  a 
bear  if  we  turn  on  the  furnace  a  little."  As  he 


62        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCK.V. 

spoke,  he  was  tying  the  bear's  rope  around  a 
leg  of  the  big,  high-posted  bed. 

"  Won't    Ginger    be    surprised  ? "    answered 


Keith.  "  We'll  tell  her  that  we  have  a  valen- 
tine six  feet  long,  and  keep  her  guessing." 

There  was  no  time  for  teasing,  however,  as 
the  first  guest  arrived  while  they  were  still 
in  the  blue  room. 

"  I  hate  to  go  off  and  leave  him  in  the  dark," 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  63 

said  Keith,  with  a  final  loving  pat.  "  I  guess 
he'll  not  mind,  though.  Maybe  he'll  think  he 
is  in  the  woods  if  I  put  this  good-smelling  pine 
pillow  on  the  rug  beside  him." 

"  Oh,  boys,"  called  Virginia  from  the  hall 
down-stairs.  "  See  what  an  enormous  valentine 
pie  Aunt  Allison  has  made !  " 

Looking  over  the  banisters,  the  boys  saw 
that  a  table  had  been  drawn  into  the  middle  of 
the  wide  reception-hall,  and  on  it  sat  the  largest 
pie  that  they  had  ever  seen.  It  was  in  a  bright 
new  tin  pan,  and  its  daintily  browned  crust 
would  have  made  them  hungry  even  if  their 
appetites  had  not  been  sharpened  by  the  cold 
and  exercise  of  the  afternoon. 

"  What  a  queer  place  to  serve  pie,"  said  Mal- 
colm, in  a  disapproving  undertone  to  his  brother. 
"  Why  don't  they  have  it  in  the  dining-room  ? 
It  looks  mighty  good,  but  somehow  it  doesn't 
seem  proper  to  have  it  stuck  out  here  in  the 
hall.  Mamma  would  never  do  such  a  thing." 

"  Aw,  it's  made  of  paper !  She  fooled  us, 
sure,  Malcolm,"  called  back  Keith,  who  had 
run  on  ahead  to  look.  "  It  is  only  painted  to 
look  like  a  pie.  But  isn't  it  a  splendid  imita- 
tion ? " 


64       TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

Virginia,  pleased  to  have  caught  them  so 
cleverly,  showed  them  the  ends  of  twenty-four 
pieces  of  narrow  ribbon,  peeping  from  under 
the  delicately  brown  top  crust.  "The  white 
ones  are  for  the  girls,  and  the  red  ones  for  the 
boys,"  she  explained.  "  There  is  a  valentine 
on  the  end  of  each  one,  and  those  on  the  red 
ribbons  match  the  ones  on  the  white.  We'll 
all  pull  at  once,  and  the  ones  who  have  valen- 
tines alike  will  go  out  to  dinner  together." 

The  guests  came  promptly.  They  had  been 
invited  for  half-past  six,  and  dinner  was  to  be 
served  soon  after  that  time.  The  last  to  arrive 
was  the  Little  Colonel.  She  came  in  charge  of 
an  old  coloured  woman,  Mom  Beck,  who  had 
been  her  mother's  nurse  as  well  as  her  own. 
The  child  was  so  hidden  in  her  wraps  when 
Mom  Beck  led  her  up-stairs,  that  no  one  could 
tell  how  she  looked.  The  boys  had  been  curi- 
ous to  see  her,  ever  since  they  had  heard  so 
many  tales  of  her  mischievous  pranks.  A  few 
minutes  later,  when  she  appeared  in  the  par- 
lours, there  was  a  buzz  of  admiration.  Maybe 
it  was  not  so  much  for  the  soft  light  hair,  the 
star-like  beauty  of  her  big  dark  eyes,  or  the 
delicate  colour  in  her  cheeks  that  made  them  as 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  65 

pink  as  a  wild  rose,  as  it  was  for  the  valentine 
costume  she  wore.  It  was  of  dainty  white 
tulle,  sprinkled  with  hundreds  of  tiny  red  vel- 
vet hearts,  and  there  was  a  coronet  of  glittering 
rhinestones  on  her  long  fair  hair. 

"  The  Queen  of  Hearts,"  announced  Aunt 
Allison,  leading  her  forward.  "  You  know  *  she 
made  some  tarts,  upon  a  summer  day,'  and 
now  she  shall  open  the  valentine  pie  and  see 
if  it  is  as  good  as  her  Majesty's." 

The  big  music-box  in  the  hall  began  playing 
one  of  its  liveliest  waltzes,  the  children  gath- 
ered around  the  great  pie,  and  twenty-four  little 
hands  reached  out  to  grasp  the  floating  ends  of 
ribbon. 

"Pull!"  cried  the  little  Queen  of  Hearts. 
The  paper  crust  flew  off,  and  twenty-four  yards 
of  ribbon,  each  with  a  valentine  attached,  flut- 
tered brightly  through  the  air  for  an  instant. 

"  Now  match  your  verses,"  cried  her  Majesty 
again,  opening  her  own  to  read  what  was  in  it. 
There  was  much  laughing  and  peeping  over 
shoulders,  and  tangling  of  white  and  scarlet 
ribbons,  while  the  gay  music-box  played  on. 

In  the  midst  of  it  Virginia  beckoned  to  the 
Little  Colonel.  "  Come  up-stairs  with  me  for  a 


66        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

minute,  Lloyd,"  she  whispered,  "and  help  me 
look  for  something.  Aunt  Allison  has  for- 
gotten where  she  put  the  box  of  arrows  that 
we  are  to  use  in  the  archery  contest  after 
dinner.  There  is  the  prettiest  prize  for  the 
one  who  hits  the  red  heart  in  the  centre  of 
the  target." 

"  Oh,  do  you  suppose  you  can  hit  it  ? " 
asked  Lloyd,  as  she  and  Virginia  slipped  their 
arms  around  each  other,  and  went  skipping  up 
the  stairs. 

"  Yes,  indeed  !  "  answered  Virginia.  "  I  used 
to  practise  so  much  with  my  Indian  bow  and 
arrow  out  at  the  fort,  that  I  could  hit  centre 
nearly  every  time.  I  am  not  going  to  shoot 
to-night.  Aunt  Allison  thinks  it  wouldn't  be 
fair." 

When  they  reached  the  top  of  the  stairs,  Vir- 
ginia went  into  her  room  to  light  a  wax  taper 
in  one  of  the  tall  silver  candlesticks  on  her 
dressing-table.  "I  think  that  Aunt  Allison 
must  have  left  those  arrows  in  the  blue  room/' 
she  said,  leading  the  way  down  the  cross  hall 
which  went  to  the  north  wing.  "  She  made  the 
pie  in  there  this  morning,  and  all  the  other 
things  were  there.  Nobody  comes  over  in 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY. 


this  part  of  the  house  much  in  winter,  unless 
there  happens  to  be  a  great  deal  of  company." 

The  taper  that  ^ 

Virginia  carried 
was  the  only 
light  in  that  part 
of  the  house. 
When  she 
reached  the  door 
of  the  blue  room 
she  turned  to 
Lloyd.  « Hold 
the  candle  for  me, 
please,"  she  said,  -"while 
I  look  in  the  closet." 

It  was  a  pretty  picture 
that  the  little  "Queen 
of  Hearts  "  made,  as  she 
stood  in  the  doorway, 
with  the  tall  silver  can- 
dlestick held  high  in  both 
hands.  Her  hair  shone 
like  gold  in  the  candle- 
light, and  her  glittering 
crown  flashed  as  if  a 
circle  of  fairy  fireflies  had  been  caught  in  its 


68        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

soft  meshes.  Her  dark  eyes  peered  anxiously 
around  the  big  shadowy  room,  lighted  only  by 
her  flickering  taper. 

Down-stairs,  Malcolm  and  Keith  were  almost 
quarrelling  about  her.  It  began  by  Malcolm 
taking  his  brother  aside  and  offering  to  trade 
valentines  with  him. 

"  Why  ?  "  asked  Keith,  suspiciously. 

"'Cause  yours  matches  the  Little  Colonel's, 
and  I  want  to  take  her  out  to  dinner,"  ad- 
mitted Malcolm.  "She  is  the  prettiest  girl 
here." 

"But  I  don't  want  to  trade,"  answered  Keith. 
"  I  want  to  take  her  myself." 

"  I'll  give  you  the  pick  of  any  six  stamps  in 
my  album  if  you  will." 

"Don't  want  your  old  stamps,"  declared 
Keith,  stoutly.  "I'd  rather  have  the  Little 
Colonel  for  my  partner." 

"  I  think  you  might  trade,"  coaxed  Malcolm. 
"  It's  mean  not  to  when  I'm  the  oldest.  I'll 
give  you  that  Chinese  puzzle  you've  been 
wanting  so  long  if  you  will."  Keith  shook  his 
head. 

Just  then  a  terrific  scream  sounded  in  the 
upper  hall,  followed  by  another  that  made  every 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  69 

one  down-stairs  turn  pale  with  fright.  Two 
voices  were  uttering  piercing  shrieks,  one  after 
another,  so  loud  and  frantic  that  even  the  ser- 
vants in  the  back  part  of  the  house  came  run- 
ning. Miss  Allison,  thinking  of  the  candle  she 
had  told  Virginia  to  light,  and  remembering 
the  thin,  white  dress  the  child  wore,  instantly 
thought  she  must  have  set  herself  afire.  She 
ran  into  the  hall,  so  frightened  that  she  was 
trembling  from  head  to  foot.  Before  she  could 
reach  the  staircase,  Virginia  came  flying  down 
the  steps,  white  as  a  little  ghost,  and  her  eyes 
wide  with  terror.  Throwing  herself  into  her 
aunt's  outstretched  arms,  she  began  to  sob  out 
her  story  between  great,  trembling  gasps. 

"  Oh,  there's  an  awful,  awful  wild  beast  in 
the  blue  room,  nearly  as  tall  as  the  ceiling !  It 
rose  up  and  came  after  us  out  of  the  corner, 
and  if  I  hadn't  slammed  the  door  just  in  time, 
it  would  have  eaten  us  up.  I'm  sure  it  would ! 
Oo-oo-oo  !  It  was  so  awful !  "  she  wailed. 

"Why,  Virginia,"  exclaimed  her  aunt,  dis- 
tressed to  see  her  so  terrified,  "it  must  have 
been  only  a  big  shadow  you  saw.  It  isn't 
possible  for  a  wild  beast  to  be  in  the  blue  room 
you  know.  Where  is  Lloyd  ? " 


7O        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS   OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  She's  up  heah,  Miss  Allison,"  called  Mom 
Beck's  voice.  "She's  so  skeered,  I'se  pow'iul 
'f raid  she's  gwine  to  faint.  They  sut'nly  is  some- 
thing in  that  room,  honey,  deed  they 'is.  I  kin 
heah  it  movin'  around  now,  switchin'  he's  tail 
an'  growlin'  ! " 

Malcolm  and  Keith,  with  guilty  faces,  went 
dashing  up  the  stairs,  and  the  whole  party  fol- 
lowed them  at  a  respectful  distance.  When  they 
opened  the  door  the  room  looked  very  big  and 
shadowy,  and  the  bear,  roused  from  its  nap, 
was  standing  on  its  hind  legs  beside  the  high- 
posted  bed.  The  huge  figure  was  certainly 
enough  to  frighten  any  one  coming  upon  it 
unexpectedly  in  the  dark,  and  when  Miss  Alli- 
son saw  it  she  drew  Virginia's  trembling  hand 
into  hers  with  a  sympathetic  clasp.  Before 
she  could  ask  any  questions,  the  boys  began  an 
excited  explanation.  It  was  some  time  before 
they  could  make  their  story  understood. 

Their  grandmother  was  horrified,  and  insisted 
on  sending  the  animal  away  at  once.  "The 
idea  of  bringing  such  a  dangerous  creature  into 
anyone's  house,"  she  exclaimed,  " and,  above  all, 
of  shutting  him  up  in  a  bedroom  !  We  might 
have  all  been  bitten,  or  hugged  to  death ! 


THE  VALENTINE  FARTY.  71 

"  But,  grandmother,"  begged  Malcolm,  "  he 
isn't  dangerous.  Let  me  bring  him  into  the 
!-ght,  and  show  you  what  a  kind  old  pet  he  is." 

There  was  a  scattering  to  the  other  end  of 
the  hall  as  Malcolm  came  out,  leading  the  bear, 
but  the  children  gradually  drew  nearer  as  the 
great  animal  began  its  performances.  Keith 
whistled  and  kept  time  with  his  feet  in  a  funny 
little  shuffling  jig  he  had  learned  from  Jonesy, 
and  the  bear  obligingly  went  through  ail  his 
tricks.  He  was  used  to  being  pulled  out  to 
perform  whenever  a  crowd  could  be  collected. 

Virginia  forgot  her  fear  of  him  when  he  stood 
up  and  presented  arms  like  a  real  soldier,  and 
even  went  up  and  patted  him  when  the  show 
was  over,  joining  with  the  boys  in  begging  that 
he  might  be  allowed  to  stay  in  the  house  until 
morning.  Mrs.  Maclntyre  was  determined  to 
send  a  man  down  to  the  cabin  at  once  to 
investigate.  She  had  a  horror  of  tramps.  But 
the  boys  begged  her  to  wait  until  daylight  for 
Jonesy's  sake. 

"The  man  will  beat  him  if  he  finds  out  that 
Jonesy  warned  us,"  pleaded  Keith.  He  was 
so  earnest  that  the  tears  stood  in  his  big, 
trustful  eyes. 


72        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    Of    KENTUCKY. 

"This  is  spoiling  the  party,  mother,"  whis 
pered  Miss  Allison,  "and  dinner  is  waiting. 
I'll  be  responsible  for  any  harm  that  may  be 
done  if  you  will  let  the  boys  have  their  way 
this  once." 

There  seemed  no  other  way  to  settle  it  just 
then,  so  Bruin  was  allowed  to  go  back  to  his 
rug  in  the  blue  room,  and  the  door  was  securely 
locked. 

Keith  took  Lloyd  down  to  dinner,  and  his 
grandmother  heard  him  apologising  all  the 
way  down  for  having  frightened  her.  The 
little  Queen  of  Hearts  listened  smilingly,  but 
her  colour  did  not  come  back  all  evening,  until 
after  the  archery  contest.  It  was  when  Mal- 
colm came  up  with  the  prize  he  had  won,  a  tiny 
silver  arrow,  and  pinned  it  in  the  knot  of  red 
ribbon  on  her  shoulder. 

"Will  you  keep  it  to  remember  me  by  ?"  he 
asked,  bashfully. 

"  Of  co'se  ! "  she  answered,  with  a  smile  that 
showed  all  her  roguish  dimples.  "  I'll  keep  it 
fo'evah  and  evah  to  remembah  how  neah  I  came 
to  bein'  eaten  up  by  yo'  bea'h." 

"  It  seems  too  bad  for  such  a  beautiful  party 
to  come  to  an  end,"  Sally  Fairfax  said  when 


'WILL   YOU    KEEP    IT   TO    REMEMBER    ME    BY?' 


THE    VALENTINE    PARTY.  /5 

the  last  merry  game  was  played,  the  last  story 
told,  and  it  was  time  to  go  home.  "  But  there's 
one  comfort,"  she  added,  gathering  all  her  gay 
valentines  together,  "there  needn't  be  any 
end  to  the  remembering  of  it.  I've  had  such 
a  good  time,  Mrs.  Maclntyre." 

It  was  so  late  when  the  last  carriage  rolled 
down  the  avenue,  bearing  away  the  last  smiling 
little  guest,  that  the  children  were  almost  too 
sleepy  to  undress.  It  was  not  long  until  the 
last  light  was  put  out  in  every  room,  and  a 
deep  stillness  settled  over  the  entire  house. 
One  by  one  the  lights  went  out  in  every  home 
in  the  valley,  and  only  the  stars  were  left  shin- 
ing, in  the  cold  wintry  sky.  No,  there  was 
one  lamp  that  still  burned.  It  was  in  the 
little  cottage  where  old  Professor  Heinrich  sat 
bowed  over  his  books. 


CHAPTER   IV. 

A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN. 

SOME  people  said  that  old  Johann  Heinrich 
never  slept,  for  no  matter  what  hour  of  the 
night  one  passed  his  lonely  little  house,  a  lamp 
was  always  burning.  He  was  a  queer  old  Ger- 
man naturalist,  living  by  himself  in  a  cottage 
adjoining  the  Maclntyre  place.  He  had  been 
a  professor  in  a  large  university  until  he  grew 
too  old  to  keep  his  position.  Why  he  should 
have  chosen  Lloydsborough  Valley  as  the  place 
to  settle  for  the  remainder  of  his  life,  no  one 
could  tell. 

He  kept  kimself  away  from  his  neighbours, 
and  spent  so  much  time  roaming  around  the 
woods  by  himself  that  people  called  him 
queer.  They  did  not  know  that  he  had 
written  two  big  books  about  the  birds  and 
insects  he  loved  so  well,  or  that  he  could  tell 
them  facts  more  wonderful  than  fairy  tales 
76 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  77 

about  these  little  wild  creatures  of  the  wood- 
land. 

j  To-night  he  had  read  later  than  usual,  and 
his  fire  was  nearly  out.  He  was  too  poor  to 
keep  a  servant,  so  when  he  found  that  the  coal- 
hod  was  empty  he  had  to  go  out  to  the  kitchen 
to  fill  it  himself.  That  is  why  he  saw  some- 
thing that  happened  soon  after  midnight,  while 
everybody  else  in  the  valley  was  sound 
asleep. 

Over  in  the  cabin  by  the  spring-house  where 
the  boys  had  left  the  tramp  and  Jonesy,  a  puff 
of  smoke  went  curling  around  the  roof.  Then 
a  tongue  of  flame  shot  up  through  the  cedars, 
and  another  and  another  until  the  sky  was  red 
with  an  angry  glare.  It  lighted  up  the  eastern 
window-panes  of  the  servants'  cottage,  but  the 
inmates,  tired  from  the  unusual  serving  of  the 
evening  before,  slept  on.  It  shone  full  across 
the  window  of  Virginia's  room,  but  she  was 
dreaming  of  being  chased  by  bears,  and  only 
turned  uneasily  in  her  sleep. 

The  old  professor,  on  his  way  to  the  kitchen, 
noticed  that  it  seemed  strangely  light  outside. 
He  shuffled  to  the  door  and  looked  out. 

"  Ach   Himmel !  "   he   exclaimed,   excitedly. 


78        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS   OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  Somebody  vil  shust  in  his  bed  be  burnt,  if 
old  Johann  does  not  haste  make  ! " 

Not  waiting  to  close  the  door  behind  him,  or 
even  to  catch  up  something  to  protect  his  old 
bald  head  from  the  intense  cold  of  the  winter 
night,  he  ran  out  across  the  garden.  His  shuffling 
feet,  in  their  flapping  old  carpet  slippers,  forgot 
their  rheumatism,  and  his  shoulders  dropped 
the  weight  of  their  seventy  years.  He  ran  like 
a  boy  across  the  meadow,  through  the  gap  in 
the  fence,  and  down  the  hill  to  the  cabin  by  the 
spring. 

All  one  side  of  it  was  in  flames.  The  fire 
was  curling  around  the  front  door  and  bursting 
through  the  windows  with  fierce  cracklings. 
Dashing  frantically  around  to  the  back  door,  he 
threw  himself  against  it,  shouting  to  know  if 
any  one  was  within.  A  blinding  rush  of  smoke 
was  his  only  answer  as  he  backed  away  from 
the  overpowering  heat,  but  something  fell  across 
the  door-sill  in  a  limp  little  heap.  It  was 
Jonesy. 

Dragging  the  child  to  a  safe  distance  from 
the  burning  building,  he  ran  back,  fearing  that 
some  one  else  might  be  in  danger,  but  this  time 
the  flames  met  him  at  the  door,  and  it  was 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  79 

impossible  to  go  in.  His  hoarse  shouting  roused 
the  servants,  but  by  the  time  they  reached  the 
cabin  the  roof  had  fallen  in,  and  all  danger  of 
the  fire  spreading  to  other  buildings  was  over. 

While  the  professor  was  bending  over  Jonesy, 
trying  to  bring  him  back  to  consciousness,  Miss 
Allison  came  running  down  the  path.  She  had 
an  eiderdow  n  quilt  wrapped  around  her  over  her 
dressing-gown.  The  shouts  had  awakened  her, 
also,  and  she  had  slipped  out  as  quietly  as 
possible,  not  wishing  to  alarm  her  mother. 

"  How  did  it  happen  ? "  she  demanded,  breath- 
lessly "  Is  the  child  badly  burned  ?  Is  any  one 
else  hurt  ?  Is  the  tramp  in  the  cabin  ?  " 

No  one  gave  any  answer  to  her  rapid  ques- 
tions. The  old  professor  shook  his  bead,  but 
did  not  look  up.  He  was  bending  over  Jonesy, 
trying  to  restore  him  to  consciousness.  He 
seemed  to  know  the  right  things  to  do  for  him, 
and  in  a  little  while  the  child  opened  his  eyes 
and  looked  around  wonderingly.  In  a  few  min- 
utes he  was  able  to  tell  what  he  knew  about  the 
fire, 

It  was  not  much,  only  a  horrible  recollection 
of  being  awakened  by  a  feeling  that  he  was 
choking  in  the  rhick  smoke  that  filled  the  room  ; 


8O        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

of  hearing  the  boss  swear  at  him  to  be  quick 
and  follow  hirn  or  he  would  be  burned  to  death. 
Then  there  had  been  an  awful  moment  of  grop- 
ing through  the  blinding,  choking  smoke,  trying 
to  find  a  way  out.  The  man  sprang  to  a  window 
and  made  his  escape,  but  as  the  outside  air 
rushed  in  through  the  opening  he  left,  it  seemed 
to  fan  the  smoke  instantly  into  flame. 

Jonesy  had  struck  out  at  the  wall  of  fire  with 
his  helpless  little  hands,  and  then,  half-crazed 
by  the  scorching  pain,  dropped  to  the  floor  and 
crawled  in  the  opposite  direction,  just  as  the 
professor  burst  open  the  door. 

The  sight  of  the  poor  little  blistered  face 
brought  the  tears  to  Miss  Allison's  eyes,  and 
she  called  two  of  the  coloured  men,  directing 
them  to  carry  Jonesy  to  the  house,  and  then  go 
at  once  for  a  doctor.  But  the  professor  inter- 
fered, insisting  that  Jonesy  should  be  taken  to 
his  house.  He  said  that  he  knew  how  to  pre- 
pare the  cooling  bandages  that  were  needed,  and 
that  he  would  sit  up  all  night  to  apply  them. 
He  could  not  sleep  anyhow,  he  said,  after  such 
great  excitement. 

"  But  I  feel  responsible  for  him,"  urged  Miss 
Allison.  "  Since  it  happened  on  our  place,  and 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  8 1 

my  little  nephews  brought  him  here,  it  seems  to 
me  that  we  ought  to  have  the  care  of  him." 

The  professor  waved  her  aside,  lifting  Jonesy's 
head  as  tenderly  as  a  nurse  could  have  done,  and 
motioned  the  coloured  men  to  lift  him  up. 

"  No,  no,  fraulein,"  he  said.  "  I  have  had 
eggsperience.  It  is  besser  the  poor  leedle 
knabe  go  mit  me !  " 

There  was  no  opposing  the  old  man's  masterful 
way.  Miss  Allison  stepped  aside  for  them  to  pass, 
calling  after  him  her  willingness  to  do  the  nurs- 
ing he  had  taken  upon  himself,  and  insisting  that 
she  would  come  early  in  the  morning  to  help. 

Unc'  Henry  was  left  to  guard  the  ruins,  lest 
some  stray  spark  should  be  blown  toward  the 
other  buildings.  "  Dis  yere  ole  niggah  wa'n't 
mistaken  aftah  all,"  he  muttered.  "  Dee  was 
somebody  prowlin'  'roun'  de  premises  yistiddy 
evenin'."  Then  he  searched  the  ground,  all 
around  the  cabin,  for  footprints  in  the  snow. 
He  found  some  tracks  presently,  and  followed 
them  over  the  meadow  in  the  starlight,  across 
the  road,  and  down  the  railroad  track  several 
rods.  There  they  suddenly  disappeared.  The 
tramp  had  evidently  walked  on  the  rail  some 
distance.  If  Unc'  Henry  had  gone  quarter  of 


82         TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

a  mile  farther  up  the  track,  he  would  have  found 
those  same  sliding  imprints  on  every  other  cross- 
tie,  as  if  the  man  had  taken  long  running  leaps 
in  his  haste  to  get  away. 

JoneSy  stoutly-  denied  that  the  man  had  set 
fire  to  the  cabin.  "  We  nearly  froze  to  death 
that  night,"  he  said,  when  questioned  about  it 
afterward,  "and  the  boss  piled  on  an  awful  big 
lot  of  wood  just  before  he  went  to  bed." 

"Then  what  made  him  take  to  his  heels  so 
fast  if  he  didn't  ?  "  some  one  asked. 

"  I  don't  know,"  answered  Jonesy.  "  He 
said  that  luck  was  always  against  him,  and 
maybe  he  thought  nobody  would  believe  him 
if  he  did  say  that  he  didn't  do  it." 

Several  days  after  that  Malcolm  found  the 
tramp's  picture  in  the  Courier-Journal.  He 
was  a  noted  criminal  who  had  escaped  from  a 
Northern  penitentiary  some  two  months  before, 
and  had  been  arrested  by  the  Louisville  police. 
There  was  no  mistaking  him.  That  big,  ugly 
scar  branded  him  on  cheek  and  forehead  like 
another  Cain. 

"And  to  think  that  that  terrible  man  was 
harboured  on  my  place  !  "  exclaimed  Mrs.  Mac- 
Intyre  when  she  heard  of  it.  "And  you  boys 


A   FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  83 

were  down  there  in  the  cabin  with  him  for 
hours  !  Sat  beside  him  and  talked  with  him ! 
What  will  your  mother  say  ?  I  feel  as  if  you 
had  been  exposed  to  the  smallpox,  and  I  cannot 
be  too  thankful  now  that  the  boy  who  was 
with  him  was  not  brought  here.  He  isn't  a 
fit  companion  for  you.  Not  that  the  poor  little 
unfortunate  is  to  blame.  He  cannot  help  be- 
ing a  child  of  the  slums,  and  he  must  be  put 
in  an  orphan  asylum  or  a  reform  school  at 
once.  It  is  probably  the  only  thing  that  can 
save  him  from  growing  up  to  be  a  criminal  like 
the  man  who  brought  him  here.  I  shall  see 
what  can  be  done  about  it,  as  soon  as  possible." 

"  A  child  of  the  slums  !  "  Malcolm  and  Keith 
repeated  the  expression  afterward,  with  only  a 
vague  idea  of  its  meaning.  It  seemed  to  set 
poor  Jonesy  apart  from  themselves  as  some- 
thing unclean,  —  something  that  their  happy, 
well-filled  lives  must  not  be  allowed  to  touch. 

Maybe  if  Jonesy  had  been  an  attractive  child, 
with  a  sensitive  mouth,  and  big,  appealing  eyes, 
he  might  have  found  his  way  more  easily  into 
people's  hearts.  But  he  was  a  lean,  snub-nosed 
little  fellow,  with  a  freckled  face  and  neglected 
hair.  No  one  would  ever  find  his  cheek  a 


84        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

tempting  one  to  kiss,  and  no  one  would  be 
moved,  by  any  feeling  save  pity,  to  stoop  and 
put  affectionate  arms  around  Jonesy.  He  was 
only  a  common  little  street  gamin,  as  unlovely 
as  he  was  unloved. 

"What  a  blessing  that  there  are  such  places 
as  orphan  asylums  for  children  of  that  class,"  said. 
Mrs.  Maclntyre,  after  one  of  her  visits  to  him. 
"  I  must  make  arrangements  for  him  to  be  put 
into  one  as  soon  as  he  is  able  to  be  moved." 

"  I  think  he  will  be  very  loath  to  leave  the 
old  professor,"  answered  Miss  Allison.  "  He  has 
been  so  good  to  the  child,  amusing  him  by  the 
hour  with  his  microscopes  and  collections  of  in- 
sects, telling  him  those  delightful  old  German 
folk-lore  tales,  and  putting  him  to  sleep  every 
night  to  the  music  of  his  violin.  What  a  child- 
lover  he  is,  and  what  a  delightful  old  man  in 
every  way  !  I  am  glad  we  have  discovered  him." 

"  Yes,"  said  Mrs.  Maclntyre  ;  "and  when  this 
little  tramp  is  sent  away,  I  want  the  children  to 
go  there  often.  I  asked  him  if  he  could  not 
teach  them  this  spring,  at  least  make  a  beginning 
with  them  in  natural  history,  and  he  appeared 
much  pleased.  He  is  as  poor  as  a  church 
mouse,  and  would  be  very  glad  of  the  money." 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  8$ 

"That  reminds  me,"  said  Miss  Allison,  "he 
asked  me  if  the  boys  could  not  come  down  to 
see  Jonesy  this  afternoon,  and  bring  the  bear. 
He  thought  it  would  give  the  little  fellow  so 
much  pleasure,  and  might  help  him  to  forget 
his  suffering." 

Mrs.  Maclntyre  hesitated.  "I  do  not  be- 
lieve their  mother  would  like  it,"  she  answered. 
"  Sydney  is  careful  enough  about  their  associ- 
ates, but  Elise  is  doubly  particular.  You  can 
imagine  how  much  badness  this  child  must 
know  when  you  remember  how  he  has  been 
reared.  He  told  me  that  his  name  is  Jones 
Carter,  and  that  he  cannot  remember  ever  hav- 
ing a  father  or  a  mother.  I  questioned  him 
very  closely  this  morning.  He  comes  from  the 
worst  of  the  Chicago  slums.  He  slept  in  the 
cellar  of  one  of  its  poorest  tenement  houses,  and 
lived  in  the  gutters.  He  has  a  brother  only  a 
little  older,  who  is  a  bootblack.  On  days  when 
shines  were  plentiful  they  had  something  to 
eat,  otherwise  they  starved  or  begged." 

"  Poor  little  lamb,"  murmured  Miss  Allison. 

"It  was  by  the  brother's  advice  he  came 
away  with  that  tramp,"  continued  Mrs.  Macln- 
tyre, "  He  had  gotten  possession  of  that 


86   TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

trained  bear  in  some  way,  and  probably  took 
a  fancy  to  Jones  because  he  could  whistle  and 
dance  all  sorts  of  jigs.  He  probably  thought 
it  would  be  a  good  thing  to  have  a  child  with 
him  to  work  on  peoples'  sympathies.  They 
walked  all  the  way  from  Chicago  to  Lloyds- 
borough,  Jones  told  me,  excepting  three  days' 
journey  they  made  in  a  wagon.  They  have 
been  two  months  on  the  road,  and  showed  the 
bear  in  the  country  places  they  passed  through. 
They  avoided  the  large  towns." 

"Think  what  a  Christmas  he  must  have 
had  !  "  exclaimed  Miss  Allison. 

"  Christmas !  I  doubt  if  he  ever  heard  the 
word.  His  speech  is  something  shocking ; 
nothing  but  the  slang  of  the  streets,  and  so 
ungrammatical  that  I  could  scarcely  under- 
stand him  at  times.  No,  I  am  very  sure  that 
neither  Sydney  nor  Elise  would  want  the  boys 
to  be  with  him." 

"  But  he  is  so  little,  mother,  and  so  sick  and 
pitiful  looking,"  pleaded  Miss  Allison.  "  Surely 
he  cannot  know  so  very  much  badness  or  hurt 
the  boys  if  they  go  down  to  cheer  him  up  for 
a  little  while." 

Notwithstanding  Mrs.  Maclntyre's  fears,  she 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  87 

consented  to  the  boys  visiting  Jonesy  that 
afternoon.  She  could  not  resist  the  professor's 
second  appeal  or  the  boys'  own  urging. 

They  took  the  bear  with  them,  which  Jonesy 
welcomed  like  a  lost  friend.  They  spent  an 
interesting  hour  among  the  professor's  collec- 
tions, listening  to  his  explanations  in  his  funny 
broken  English.  Then  they  explored  his  cot- 
tage, much  amused  by  his  queer  housekeeping, 
cracked  nuts  on  the  hearth,  and  roasted  apples 
on  a  string  in  front  of  the  fire. 

Jonesy  did  not  seem  to  be  cheered  up  by  the 
visit  as  much  as  the  professor  had  expected. 
Presently  the  old  man  left  the  room  and  Keith 
sat  down  on  the  side  of  the  bed. 

"What  makes  you  so  still,  Jonesy?"  he 
asked.  "  You  haven't  said  a  word  for  the  last 
half  hour." 

"  I  was  thinking  about  Barney,"  he  answered, 
keeping  his  face  turned  away.  "  Barney  is  my 
brother,  you  know." 

"  Yes,  so  grandmother  said,"  answered  Keith. 
"  How  big  is  he  ? " 

"  'Bout  as  big  as  yourn."  There  was  a  choke 
in  Jonesy's  voice  now.  "  Seein'  yourn  put  his 
arm  across  your  shoulder  and  pullin'  your  head 


88    TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

back  by  one  ear  and  pinchin'  you  sort  in  fun  like, 
made  me  think  the  way  Barney  uster  do  to  me." 

Keith  did  not  know  what  to  say,  so  there  was 
a  long,  awkward  pause. 

"I'd  never  a-left  him,"  said  Jonesy,  "but  the 
boss  said  it  'ud  only  be  a  little  while  and  we'd 
make  so  much  money  showin'  the  bear  that  I'd 
have  a  whole  pile  to  take  home.  I  could  ride 
back  on  the  cars  and  take  a  whole  trunk  full  of 
nice  things  to  Barney,  —  clothes,  and  candy,  and 
a  swell  watch  and  chain,  and  a  bustin'  beauty  of 
a  bike.  Now  the  bear's  sold  and  the  boss  has 
run  away,  and  I  don't  know  how  I  can  get  back 
to  Barney.  Him  an  me's  all  each  other's  got, 
and  I  want  to  see  him  so  bad." 

The  little  fellow's  lip  quivered,  and  he  put  up 
one  bandaged  hand  to  wipe  away  the  hot  tears 
that  would  keep  coming,  in  spite  of  his  efforts 
not  to  make  a  baby  of  himself.  There  was 
something  so  pitiful  in  the  gesture  that  Keith 
looked  across  at  Malcolm  and  then  patted  the 
bedclothes  with  an  affectionate  little  hand. 

"Never  mind,  Jonesy,"  he  said,  "papa  will 
be  -home  in  the  spring  and  he'll  send  you  back 
to  Barney."  But  Jonesy  never  having  known 
anything  of  fathers  whose  chief  pleasure  is  in 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  89 

spending  money  to  make  little  sons  happy,  was 
not  comforted  by  that  promise  as  much  as 
Keith  thought  he  ought  to  be. 

"But  I  won't  be  here  then,"  he  sobbed. 
"They're  goin'  to  put  me  in  a  'sylum,  and  I 
can't  get  out  for  so  long  that  maybe  Barney  will 
be  dead  before  we  ever  find  each  other  again." 


He  was  crying  violently  now. 

"  Who  is  going  to  put  you  in  an  asylum  ? " 
asked  Malcolm,  lifting  an  end  of  the  pillow 
under  which  Jonesy's  head  had  burrowed,  to 
hide  the  grief  that  his  eight-year-old  manhood 
made  him  too  proud  to  show. 

"An  old  lady  with  white  hair  what  comes 
here  every  day.  The  professor  said  he  would 


9O        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

keep  me  if  he  wasn't  so  old  and  hard  up,  and 
she  said  as  how  a  'sylum  was  the  proper  place 
for  a  child  of  the  slums,  and  he  said  yes  if  they 
wasn't  nobody  to  care  for  'em.  But  I've  got 
somebody  !  "  he  cried.  "  I've  got  Barney  !  Oh, 
dorit  let  them  shut  me  up  somewhere  so  I  can't 
never  get  back  to  Barney  !  " 

"They  don't  shut  you  up  when  they  send 
you  to  an  asylum,"  said  Malcolm.  "  The  one 
near  here  is  a  lovely  big  house,  with  acres  of 
green  grass  around  it,  and  orchards  and  vine- 
yards, and  they  are  ever  so  good  to  the  chil- 
dren, and  give  them  plenty  to  eat  and  wear, 
and  send  them  to  school." 

"  Barney  wouldn't  be  there,"  sobbed  Jonesy, 
diving  under  the  pillow  again.  "  I  don't  want 
nothing  but  him." 

"  Well,  we'll  see  what  we  can  do,"  said  Mal- 
colm, as  he  heard  the  professor  coming  back. 
"  If  we  could  only  keep  you  here  until  spring, 
I  am  sure  that  papa  would  send  you  back  all 
right.  He's  always  helping  people  that  get 
into  trouble." 

Jonesy  took  his  little  snub  nose  out  of  the 
pillow  as  the  professor  came  in,  and  looked 
around  defiantly  as  if  ready  to  fight  the  first 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  9! 

one  who  dared  to  hint  that  he  had  been  crying. 
The  boys  took  their  leave  soon  after,  leading 
the  bear  back  to  his  new  quarters  in  the  car- 
riage house,  where  they  had  made  him  a  com- 
fortable den.  Then  they  walked  slowly  up  to 
the  house,  their  arms  thrown  across  each 
other's  shoulders. 

"  S'pose  it  was  us,"  said  Keith,  after  walk- 
ing on  a  little  way  in  silence.  "  S'pose  that 
you  and  I  were  left  of  all  the  family,  and  didn't 
have  any  friends  in  the  world,  and  I  was  to 
get  separated  from  you  and  couldn't  get 
back?" 

"That  would  be  tough  luck,  for  sure,"  an- 
swered  Malcolm. 

"Don't  you  s'pose  Jonesy  feels  as  badly 
about  it  as  we  would  ? "  asked  Keith. 

"Shouldn't  be  surprised,"  said  Malcolm,  be- 
ginning to  whistle.  Keith  joined  in,  and  keep- 
ing step  to  the  tune,  like  two  soldiers,  they 
marched  on  into  the  house. 

Virginia  found  them  in  the  library,  a  little 
while  later,  sitting  on  the  hearth-rug,  tailor- 
fashion.  They  were  still  talking  about  Jonesy. 
They  could  think  of  nothing  else  but  the  lone- 
liness of  the  little  waif,  and  his  pitiful  appeal ; 


92   TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

"  Oh,  don't  let  them  shut  me  up  where  I  can't 
never  get  back  to  Barney." 

"Why  don't  you  write  to  your  father?" 
asked  Virginia,  when  they  had  told  her  the 
story  of  their  visit. 

"  Oh,  it  is  so  hard  to  explain  things  in  a 
letter,"  answered  Malcolm,  "and  being  off 
there,  he'd  say  that  grandmother  and  all  the 
grown  people  certainly  know  best.  But  if  he 
could  see  Jonesy,  —  how  pitiful  looking  he  is, 
and  hear  him  crying  to  go  back  to  his  brother, 
I  know  he'd  feel  the  way  we  do  about  it." 

"  I  called  the  professor  out  in  the  hall,  and 
told  him  so,"  said  Keith,  "and  asked  him  if  he 
couldn't  adopt  Jonesy,  or  something,  until  papa 
comes  home.  But  he  said  that  he  is  too  poor. 
He  has  only  a  few  dollars  a  month  to  live  on. 
I  didn't  mind  asking  him.  He  smiled  in  that 
big,  kind  way  he  always  does.  He  said  Jonesy 
was  lots  of  company,  and  he  would  like  to  keep 
him  this  summer,  if  he  could  afford  it,  and 
let  him  get  well  and  strong  out  here  in  the 
country." 

"Then  he  would  keep  him  till  Uncle  Sydney 
comes,  if  somebody  would  pay  his  board  ? " 
asked  Virginia. 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  9$ 

"  Yes,"  said  Malcolm,  "  but  that  doesn't  help 
matters  much,  for  we  children  are  the  only 
ones  who  want  him  to  stay,  and  our  monthly 
allowances,  all  put  together,  wouldn't  be 
enough." 

"We  might  earn  the  money  ourselves,"  sug- 
gested Virginia,  after  awhile,  breaking  a  long 
silence. 

"  How  ? "  demanded  Malcolm.  "  Now,  Gin- 
ger, you  know,  as  well  as  I  do,  there  is  no  way 
for  us  to  earn  anything  this  time  of  year.  You 
can't  pick  fruit  in  the  dead  of  winter,  can  you  ? 
or  pull  weeds,  or  rake  leaves  ?  What  other 
way  is  there  ? " 

"  We  might  go  to  every  house  in  the  valley, 
and  exhibit  the  bear,"  said  Keith,  "taking  up 
a  collection  each  time." 

"  Now  you've  made  me  think  of  it,"  cried 
Virginia,  excitedly.  "I've  thought  of  a  good 
way.  We'll  give  Jonesy  a  benefit,  like  great 
singers  have.  The  bear  will  be  the  star  per- 
former, and  we'll  all  act,  too,  and  sell  the  tick- 
ets, and  have  tableaux.  I  love  to  arrange 
tableaux.  We  were  always  having  them  out 
at  the  fort." 

"  I  bid  to  show  off  the  bear,"  cried  Malcolm, 


94       TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

entering  into  Virginia's  plan  at  once.  "  May 
be  I'll  learn  something  to  recite,  too." 

"I'll  help  print  the  tickets,"  said  Keith, 
"and  go  around  selling  them,  and  be  in  any- 
thing  you  want  me  to  be.  How  many  tableaux 
are  you  going  to  have,  Ginger  ?  " 

"  I  can't  tell  yet,"  she  answered,  but  q 
moment  after  she  cried  out,  her  eyes  shining 
with  pleasure,  "  Oh,  I've  thought  of  a  lovely 
one.  We  can  have  the  Little  Colonel  and  the 
bear  for  '  Beauty  and  the  Beast.'  " 

Malcolm  promptly  turned  a  somersault  on 
the  rug,  to  express  his  approval,  but  came  up 
with  a  grave  face,  saying,  "  I'll  bet  that  grand- 
mother will  say  we  can't  have  it." 

"  Let's  get  Aunt  Allison  on  our  side,"  sug- 
gested Virginia.  "  She's  up  in  her  room  now, 
painting  a  picture." 

A  little  sigh  of  disappointment  escaped  Miss 
Allison's  lips,  as  she  heard  the  rush  of  feet  on 
the  stairs.  This  was  the  first  time  that  she  had 
touched  her  brushes  since  the  children's  com- 
ing, and  she  had  hoped  that  this  one  after- 
noon would  be  free  from  interruption,  when  she 
heard  them  planning  their  afternoon's  occupa- 
tions at  the  lunch -table.  They  had  come  back 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  95 

before  the  little  water-colour  sketch  she  was 
making  was  quite  finished. 

There  was  no  disappointment,  however,  in 
the  bright  face  she  turned  toward  them,  and 
Virginia  lost  no  time  in  beginning  her  story. 
She  had  been  elected  to  tell  it,  but  before  it 
was  done  all  three  had  had  a  part  in  the 
telling,  and  all  three  were  waiting  with  wistful 
eyes  for  her  answer. 

"  Well,  what  is  it  you  want  me  to  do  ?  "  she 
asked,  finally. 

"  Oh,  just  be  on  our  side  !  "  they  exclaimed, 
"and  get  grandmother  to  say  yes.  You  see 
she  doesn't  feel  about  Jonesy  the  way  we  do. 
She  is  willing  to  pay  a  great  deal  of  money 
to  have  him  taken  off  and  cared  for,  but 
she  says  she  doesn't  see  how  grandchildren 
of  hers  can  be  so  interested  in  a  little  tramp 
that  comes  from  nobody  knows  where,  and  who 
will  probably  end  his  days  in  a  penitentiary." 

Aunt  Allison  answered  Malcolm's  last  re- 
mark a  little  sternly.  "  You  must  understand 
that  it  is  only  for  your  own  good  that  she  is 
opposed  to  Jonesy's  staying,"  she  said.  "  There 
is  nobody  in  the  valley  so  generous  and  kind 
to  the  poor  as  your  grandmother," 


96        TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  Yes'm,"  said  Virginia,  meekly,  "  but  you'll 
ask  her,  won't  you  please,  auntie  ?  " 

Miss  Allison  smiled  at  her  persistence.  "  Wait 
until  I  finish  this,"  she  said.  "  Then  I'll  go 
down-stairs  and  put  the  matter  before  her,  and 
report  to  you  at  dinner-time.  Now  are  you 
satisfied  ? " 

"Yes,"  they  cried  in  chorus,  "  you're  on  our 
side.  It's  all  right  now ! "  With  a  series  of 
hearty  hugs  that  left  her  almost  breathless, 
they  hurried  away. 

When  Miss  Allison  kept  her  promise  she 
did  not  go  to  her  mother  with  the  children's 
story  of  Jonesy,  to  move  her  to  pity.  She 
told  her  simply  what  they  wanted,  and  then 
said,  "  Mother,  you  know  I  have  begun  to  teach 
the  children  the  'Vision  of  Sir  Launfal.'  Vir- 
ginia has  learned  every  word  of  it,  and  the  boys 
will  soon  know  all  but  the  preludes.  There 
will  never  be  a  better  chance  than  this  for 
them  to  learn  the  lesson  : 

"  '  Not  what  we  give,  but  what  we  share, 
For  the  gift  without  the  giver  is  bare.' 

"This  would  be  a  real  sharing  of  themselves, 
all  their  time  and  best  energies,  for  they  will 


A    FIRE    AND    A    PLAN.  9/ 

have  to  work  hard  to  get  up  such  an  entertain- 
ment as  this.  It  isn't  for  Jonesy's  sake  I  ask 
it,  but  for  the  children's  own  good." 

The  old  lady  looked  thoughtfully  into  the  fire 
a  moment,  and  then  said,  "  Maybe  you  are  right, 
Allison.  I  do  want  to  keep  them  unspotted 
from  a  knowledge  of  the  world's  evils,  but  I 
do  not  want  to  make  them  selfish.  If  this 
little  beggar  at  the  gate  can  teach  them  where 
to  find  the  Holy  Grail,  through  unselfish  ser- 
vice to  him,  I  do  not  want  to  stand  in  the  way. 
Bless  their  little  hearts,  they  may  play  Sir 
Launfal  if  they  want  to,  and  may  they  have 
as  beautiful  a  vision  as  his  !  " 


CHAPTER   V. 
JONESY'S  BENEFIT. 

THE  Jonesy  Benefit  grew  like  Jack's  bean- 
stalk after  Miss  Allison  took  charge  of  it. 
There  was  less  than  a  week  in  which  to  get 
ready,  as  the  boys  insisted  on  having  it  on  the 
twenty-second  of  February,  in  honour  of  Wash- 
ington's birthday  ;  but  in  that  short  time  the 
childish  show  which  Ginger  had  proposed  grew 
into  an  entertainment  so  beautiful  and  elabo- 
rate that  the  neighbourhood  talked  of  it  for 
weeks  after. 

Miss  Allison  spent  one  sleepless  night,  plan- 
ning her  campaign  like  a  general,  and  next  morn- 
ing had  an  army  of  helpers  at  work.  Before 
the  day  was  over  she  sent  a  letter  to  an  old 
school  friend  of  hers  in  the  city,  Miss  Eleanor 
Bond,  who  had  been  her  most,  intimate  com- 
panion all  through  her  school-days,  and  who 
still  spent  a  part  of  every  summer  with  her. 

"Dearest  Nell,"  the  letter  said,  "come  out 
98 


JONESY'S  BENEFIT.  99 

to-morrow  on  the  first  afternoon  train,  if  you 
love  me.  The  children  are  getting  up  an  en- 
tertainment for  charity,  which  shall  be  duly 
explained  on  your  arrival.  No  time  now.  I 
am  superintending  a  force  of  carpenters  in  the 
college  hall,  where  the  entertainment  is  to  take 
place,  have  two  seamstresses  in  the  house 
hurrying  up  costumes,  and  am  helping  mother 
scour  the  country  for  pretty  children  to  put  in 
the  tableaux. 

"The  house  is  like  an  ant-hill  in  commotion, 
there  is  so  much  scurrying  around  ;  but  I  know 
that  is  what  you  thoroughly  enjoy.  You  shall 
have  a  finger  in  every  pie  if  you  will  come  out 
and  help  me  to  make  this  a  never-to-be-forgotten 
occasion. 

"  I  want  to  make  the  old  days  of  chivalry 
live  again  for  Virginia  and  Malcolm  and  Keith. 
I  am  going  back  to  King  Arthur's  Court  for 
the  flower  of  knighthood  at  his  round  table. 
Come  and  read  for  us  between  tableaux  as 
only  you  can  do.  Be  the  interpreter  of  '  Sir 
Launfal's  Vision  '  and  the  '  Idylls  of  the  King.' 
Give  us  the  benefit  of  your  talent  for  sweet 
charity's  sake,  if  not  for  the  sake  of  '  auld  long 
syne  '  and  your  devoted  ALLISON." 


IOO  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

"  She'll  be  here,"  said  Miss  Allison,  as  sh$ 
sealed  the  letter,  nodding  confidently  to  Mrs. 
Sherman,  who  had  come  over  to  help  with 
Lloyd's  costume.  "  You  remember  Nell  Bond, 
do  you  not  ?  She  took  the  prize  every  year  in 
elocution,  and  was  always  in  demand  at  every 
entertainment.  She  is  the  most  charming 
reader  I  ever  heard,  and  as  for  story-telling  — 
well,  she's  better  than  the  'Arabian  Nights.' 
You  must  let  the  Little  Colonel  come  over 
every  evening  while  she  is  here." 

Miss  Bond  arrived  the  next  day,  and  her 
visit  was  a  time  of  continual  delight  to  the 
children.  They  followed  her  wherever  she 
went,  until  Mrs.  Maclntyre  laughingly  called 
her  the  '  Pied  Piper  of  Hamelin,'  and  asked 
what  she  had  done  to  bewitch  them. 

The  first  night  they  gathered  around  the 
library-table,  all  as  busy  as  bees.  Keith  and  the 
Little  Colonel  were  cutting  tinsel  into  various 
lengths  for  Virginia  to  tie  into  fringe  for  a  gay 
banner.  Malcolm  was  gilding  some  old  spurs, 
Mrs.  Maclntyre  sat  stringing  yards  of  wax 
beads,  that  gleamed  softly  in  the  lamplight  like 
great  rope  of  pearls,  and  Mrs.  Sherman  was 
painting  the  posters,  which  were  to  be  put  up 


JONESY  S    BENEFIT.  IOI 

in  the  post-office  and  depot  as  advertisements 
of  the  Jonesy  Benefit. 

Miss  Allison,  who  had  been  busy  for  hours 
with  pasteboard  and  glue,  tin-foil  and  scissors, 
held  up  the  suit  of  mail  which  she  had  just 
finished. 

"  Isn't  that  fine  !  "  cried  Malcolm.  "  It  looks 
exactly  like  some  of  the  armour  we  saw  in  the 
Tower  of  London,  doesn't  it,  Keith  ?  " 

"  I've  thought  of  a  riddle ! "  exclaimed  Vir- 
ginia. "Why  is  Aunt  Allison's  head  like 
Aladdin's  lamp  ? " 

"'Cause  it's  so  bright?"  ventured  Malcolm. 

"  No ;  because  she  has  only  to  rub  it,  and 
everything  she  thinks  of  appears.  I  don't  see 
how  it  is  possible  to  make  so  many  beautiful 
things  out  of  almost  nothing." 

Virginia  looked  admiringly  around  at  all  the 
pretty  articles  scattered  over  the  room.  A 
helmet  with  nodding  white  plumes  lay  on  the 
piano.  A  queen's  robe  trailed  its  royal  ermine 
beside  it.  A  sword  with  a  jewelled  hilt  shone 
on  the  mantel,  and  a  dozen  dazzling  shields 
were  ranged  in  various  places  on  the  low  book- 
shelves. 

It  was  easy,  in  the  midst  of  such  surround- 


IO2     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

ings,  for  the  children  to  imagine  themselves 
back  in  the  clays  of  King  Arthur  and  his  court, 
while  Miss  Bond  sat  there  telling  them  such 
beautiful  tales  of  its  fair  ladies  and  noble 
knights.  Indeed,  before  the  day  of  the  enter- 
tainment came  around  they  even  found  them- 
selves talking  to  each  other  in  the  quaint  speech 
of  that  olden  time. 

When  Malcolm  accidentally  ran  against  his 
grandmother  in  the  hall,  instead  of  his  usual, 
"  Oh,  excuse  me,  grandmother,"  it  was  "  Prithee 
grant  me  gracious  pardon,  fair  dame.  Not  for 
a  king's  ransom  would  I  have  thus  jostled  thee 
in  such  unseemly  haste !  "  And  Ginger,  instead 
of  giving  Keith  a  slap  when  he  teasingly  penned 
her  up  in  a  corner,  to  make  her  divide  some 
nuts  with  him,  said,  in  a  most  tragic  way,  "  Un- 
hand me,  villain,  or  by  my  troth  thou'lt  rue  this 
ruffian  conduct  sore  !  " 

The  library-table  was  strewn  with  books  of 
old  court  life,  and  pictures  of  kings  and  queens 
whose  costumes  were  to  be  copied  in  the  tab- 
leaux. There  was  one  book  which  Keith  car- 
ried around  with  him  until  he  had  spelled  out  the 
whole  beautiful  tale.  It  was  called  "  In  Kings' 
Houses,"  and  was  the  story  of  the  little  Duke 


''THERE  WAS  ONE    BOOK   WHICH   KEITH  CARRIED  AROUND 
WITH  HIM." 


JONESY'S  BENEFIT.  105 

oi  Gloster  who  was  made  a  knight  in  his  boy- 
hood. And  when  Keith  had  read  it  himself,  he 
took  it  down  to  the  professor's,  and  read  it  all 
over  again  to  Jonesy. 

"Think  how  grand  he  must  have  looked, 
Jonesy,"  cried  Keith,  "  and  I  am  to  be  dressed 
exactly  like  him  when  I  am  knighted  in  the 
tableau."  Then  he  read  the  description 
again: 

"'A  suit  of  white  velvet  embroidered  with 
seed  pearls,  and  literally  blazing  with  jewels, — 
even  the  buttons  being  great  brilliants.  From 
his  shoulder  hung  a  cloak  of  azure  blue  velvet, 
the  colour  of  the  order,  richly  wrought  with 
gold  ;  and  around  his  neck  he  wore  the  magnifi- 
cent collar  and  jewel  of  St.  George  and  the 
Dragon,  that  was  the  personal  gift  of  his 
Majesty,  the  king.' 

"  Think  how  splendid  it  must  have  been, 
Jonesy,  when  the  procession  came  in  to  the 
music  of  trumpets  and  bugles  and  silver  flutes 
and  hautboys  !  Wouldn't  you  like  to  have  seen 
the  heralds  marching  by,  two  by  two,  in  cloth 
of  gold,  with  an  escort  of  the  queen's  guard 
following  ?  All  of  England's  best  and  bravest 
were  there,  and  they  sat  in  the  carven  stalls  in 


106     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

St.  George's  Chapel,  with  their  gorgeous  ban- 
ners drooping  over  them.  I  saw  that  chapel, 
Jonesy,  when  we  were  in  England,  and  I  saw 
where  the  knights  kept  the  '  vigil  of  arms '  in 
the  holy  places,  the  night  before  they  took  their 
vows."  He  picked  up  the  book  and  read  again  : 
"  '  Fasting  and  praying  and  lonely  watching  by 
night  in  the  great  abbey  where  there  are  so 
many  dead  folk.' 

"  Oh,  don't  you  wish  you  could  have  lived  in 
those  days,  Jonesy,  and  have  been  a  knight  ? " 

It  was  all  Greek  to  Jonesy.  The  terms  puz- 
zled him,  but  he  enjoyed  Keith's  description  of 
the  tournaments. 

Several  evenings  after  that,  Keith  went  down 
to  the  cottage  dressed  in  the  beautiful  velvet 
costume  of  white  and  blue,  ablaze  with  rhine- 
stones  and  glittering  jewels.  He  had  been 
wrapped  in  his  Aunt  Allison's  golf  cape,  and, 
as  he  threw  it  off,  Jonesy's  eyes  opened  wider 
and  wider  with  wonder. 

"  Hi !  You  look  like  a  whole  jeweller's 
window ! "  he  cried,  dazzled  by  the  gorgeous 
sight.  The  professor  lighted  another  lamp, 
and  Keith  turned  slowly  around,  to  be  admired 
on  e^ery  side  like  a  pleased  peacock. 


JONESY'S    BENEFIT.  IO/ 

"  Of  course  it's  all  only  imitation,"  he  ex- 
plained, "but  it  will  look  just  as  good  as  the 
real  thing  behind  the  footlights.  But  you  ought 
to  see  the  stage  when  it's  fixed  up  to  look  like 
the  Hall  of  the  Shields,  if  you  want  to  see 
glitter.  It's  be-j^-tiful !  Like  the  one  at 
Camelot,  you  know." 

But  Jonesy  did  not  know,  and  Keith  had  to 
tell  about  that  old  castle  at  Camelot,  as  Miss 
Bond  had  told  him.  How  that  down  the  side 
of  the  long  hall  ran  a  treble  range  of  shields,  — 

"  And  under  every  shield  a  knight  was  named, 
For  such  was  Arthur's  custom  in  his  hall. 
When  some  good  knight  had  done  one  noble 

deed 

His  arms  were  carven  only,  but  if  twain 
His  arms  were  blazoned  also,  but  if  none 
The  shield  was  blank  and  bare,  without  a  sign, 
Saving  the  name  beneath." 

Keith  had  been  greatly  interested  in  watching 
the  carpenters  fix  the  stage  so  that  it  could  be 
made  to  look  like  the  Hall  of  the  Shields  in 
a  very  few  moments,  when  the  time  for  that 
tableau  should  come.  He  knew  where  every 
glittering  shield  was  to  hang,  and  every  banner 
and  battle-axe. 


IO8     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  How  do  you  suppose  those  knights  felt," 
he  said  to  Jonesy,  "who  saw  their  shields 
hanging  there  year  after  year,  blank  and  bare, 
because  they  had  never  done  even  one  noble 
deed  ?  They  must  have  been  dreadfully  ashamed 
when  the  king  walked  by  and  read  their  names 
underneath,  and  then  looked  up  at  the  shields 
and  saw  nothing  emblazoned  on  them  or  even 
carved.  Seems  to  me  that  I  would  have  done 
something  to  have  made  me  worthy  of  that 
honour  if  I  had  died  for  it ! " 

Something,  —  it  may  have  been  the  soft,  rich 
colour  of  the  jewel -broidered  velvet  the  boy 
wore,  or  maybe  the  flush  that  rose  to  his  cheeks 
at  the  thrill  of  such  noble  thoughts, — some- 
thing had  brought  an  unusual  beauty  into  his 
face.  As  he  stood  there,  with  head  held  high, 
his  dark  eyes  flashing,  his  face  glowing,  and  in 
that  princely  dress  of  a  bygone  day,  he  looked 
every  inch  a  nobleman.  There  was  something 
so  pure  and  sweet,  too,  in  the  expression  of 
his  upturned  face  that  the  light  upon  it 
seemed  to  touch  it  into  an  almost  unearthly 
fairness. 

The  professor,  who  had  been  watching  him 
with  a  tender  smile  on  his  rugged  old  face,  drew 


JONESY'S  BENEFIT.  109 

the  child  toward  him,  and  brushed  the  hair  back 
on  his  forehead. 

"  Ach,  liebchen,"  he  said,  in  his  queer  broken 
speech,  "  thy  shield  will  never  be  blank  and 
bare.  Already  thou  hast  blazoned  it  with  the 
beauty  of  a  noble  purpose,  and  like  Galahad, 
thou  too  shalt  find  the  Grail." 

It  was  Keith's  turn  to  be  puzzled,  but  he  did 
not  like  to  ask  for  an  explanation  ;  there  was 
something  so  solemn  in  the  way  the  old  man 
put  his  hand  on  his  head  as  he  spoke,  almost  as 
if  he  were  bestowing  a  blessing.  Besides,  it 
was  time  to  go  to  the  rehearsal  at  the  college. 
One  of  the  servants  had  come  to  stay  with 
Jonesy  while  the  professor  went  over  to  prac- 
tise on  his  violin.  He  was  to  play  behind  the 
scenes,  a  soft,  low  accompaniment  to  Miss 
Bond's  reading. 

By  eight  o'clock,  the  night  of  the  Benefit, 
every  seat  in  the  house  was  full.  "  That's  jolly 
for  Jonesy,"  exclaimed  Malcolm,  peeping  out 
from  behind  the  curtain.  "We  counted  up 
that  ten  cents  a  ticket  would  make  enough,  if 
they  were  all  sold,  to  pay  his  board  till  papa 
comes  home,  and  buy  him  all  the  new  clothes 
he  needs,  too.  Now  every  ticket  is  sold." 


1 10   TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

"  Hurry  up,  Malcolm,"  called  Keith.  "  We  are 

first  on  the  programme,  and  it  is  time  to  begin." 

There  was  a  great  bustle  behind  the  scenes 


for  a  few  minutes,  and  then  "  Beauty  and  the 
Beast"  was  announced.  When  the  Little 
Colonel  came  on  the  stage  leading  the  great 
bear,  such  a  cheering  and  clapping  began  that 


JONESY'S    BENEFIT.  Ill 

they  both  looked  around,  half  frightened ;  but 
the  boys  followed  immediately  and  the  Little 
Colonel,  dressed  as  a  flower  girl,  danced  out 
to  meet  Keith,  who  came  in  clicking  his  cas- 
tanets in  time  to  Malcolm's  whistling.  The 
bear  was  made  to  go  through  all  his  tricks  and 
his  soldier  drill. 

The  children  in  the  audience  stood  on  tip- 
toe in  their  eagerness  to  see  the  great  animal 
perform,  and  were  so  wild  in  their  applause 
that  the  boys  begged  to  be  allowed  to  take  it 
in  front  of  the  curtain  every  time  during  the 
evening  when  there  was  a  long  pause  while 
some  tableau  was  being  prepared. 

Over  the  rustle  of  fluttering  programmes  and 
the  hum  of  conversation  that  followed  the  first 
number,  there  fell  presently  the  soft,  sweet 
notes  of  the  professor's  violin,  and  Miss  Bond's 
musical  voice  began  the  story  of  the  Vision  of 
Sir  Launfal. 

"  My  golden  spurs  now  bring  to  me, 
And  bring  to  me  my  richest  mail, 
For  to-morrow  I  go  over  land  and  sea 
In  search  of  the  Holy  Grail." 

Here  the  curtains  were  drawn  apart  to  show 
Malcolm  seated  on  his  pony  as  Sir  Launfal,  "in 


112     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

his  gilded  mail  that  flamed  so  bright."  It  was 
really  a  beautiful  picture  he  made,  and  his 
grandmother,  leaning  forward,  her  face  beam- 
ing with  pride  at  the  boy's  noble  bearing,  com- 
pared him  with  Arthur  himself,  "  with  lance 
in  rest,  from  spur  to  plume  a  star  of  tourna- 
ment." 

The  next  tableau  showed  him  spurning  the 
leper  at  his  gate,  and  turning  away  in  disgust 
from  the  beggar  who  "  seemed  the  one  blot  on 
the  summer  morn."  How  Miss  Bond's  voice 
rang  out  when  "  the  leper  raised  not  the  gold 
from  the  dust." 

"  Better  to  me  the  poor  man's  crust. 
That  is  no  true  alms  which  the  hand  can  hold. 
He  gives  nothing  but  worthless  gold 
Who  gives  from  a  sense  of  duty." 

In  the  next  tableau  it  was  "as  an  old  bent 
man,  worn-out  and  frail,"  that  Sir  Launfal  came 
back  from  his  weary  pilgrimage.  He  had  not 
found  the  Holy  Grail,  but  through  his  own 
sufferings  he  had  learned  pity  for  all  pain  and 
poverty.  Once  more  he  stood  beside  the  leper 
at  his  castle  gate,  but  this  time  he  stooped  to 
share  with  him  his  crust  and  wooden  bowl  of 
water. 


JONESYS    BENEFIT.  113 

Then  it  happened  on  the  stage  just  as  was 
told  in  the  poem. 

A  light  shone  round  about  the  place,  and 
the  crouching  leper  stood  up.  The  old  ragged 
mantle  dropped  off,  and  there  in  a  long  gar- 
ment almost  dazzling  in  its  whiteness,  stood  a 
figure  — 

"  Shining  and  tall,  and  fair,  and  straight 
As  the  pillar  that  stood  by  the  Beautiful  gate." 

They  could  not  see  the  face,  it  was  turned 
aside ;  but  the  golden  hair  was  like  a  glory, 
and  the  uplifted  arms  held  something  high  in 
air  that  gleamed  like  a  burnished  star,  as  all 
the  lights  in  the  room  were  turned  full. upon 
it,  for  a  little  space.  It  was  a  golden  cup. 
Then  the  voice  again  : 

"  In  many  climes  without  avail 
Thou  hast  spent  thy  life  for  the  Holy  Grail. 
Behold  it  is  here  —  this  cup,  which  thou 
Didst  fill  at  the  streamlet  for  me  but  now. 
The  holy  supper  is  kept  indeed 
In  whatso  we  share  with  another's  need." 

It  was  an  old  story  to  most  of  the  audience, 
worn  threadbare  by  many  readings,  but  with 
these  living  illustrations,  and  Miss  Bond's  won- 


114    TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

derful  way  of  telling  it,  a  new  meaning  crept 
into  the  well-known  lines,  that  thrilled  every 
listener. 

"  Could  you  understand  that,  Teddy  ?  "  asked 
old  Judge  Fairfax,  patting  his  little  grandson 
on  the  head. 

"  Course  !  "  exclaimed  seven-year-old  Ted, 
who  had  followed  his  sister  Sally  to  every 
rehearsal. 

"When  you  give  money  to  people  just  to 
get  rid  of  'em,  and  because  you  feel  you'd 
ought  to,  it  doesn't  count  for  anything.  But 
if  you  divide  something  you've  got,  and  would 
like  to  keep  it  all  yourself,  because  you  love  to, 
and  are  sorry  for  'em,  then  it  counts  a  pile. 
Sir  Launfal  would  have  popped  Jonesy  into  a 
'sylum  when  he  first  started  out  to  find  that 
gold  cup,  but  when  he  came  back  he'd  'a' 
worked  like  a  horse  getting  up  a  benefit  for 
him,  and  would  have  divided  his  own  home 
with  him,  if  he  hadn't  been  living  at  his  grand- 
mother's, and  couldn't." 

An  amused  smile  went  around  that  part 
of  the  audience  which  overheard  Ted's  shrilly 
given  explanation. 

Pictures  from  the  "Idylls  of  the  King"  fol- 


JONESY'S  BENEFIT.  115 

lowed  in  rapid  succession,  and  then  came  the 
prettiest  of  all,  being  the  one  in  which  Keith 
was  made  a  knight.  Virginia  as  queen,  her 
short  black  hair  covered  by  a  powdered  wig, 
and  a  long  court-train  sweeping  behind  her, 
stood  touching  his  shoulder  with  the  jewel- 
hiked  sword,  as  he  knelt  at  her  feet.  Lloyd 
and  Sally  Fairfax,  Julia  Ferris,  and  a  dozen 
other  pretty  girls  of  the  neighbourhood,  helped 
to  fill  out  the  gay  court  scene,  while  all  the 
boys  that  could  be  persuaded  to  take  part 
were  dressed  up  for  heralds,  guardsmen,  pages, 
and  knights.  That  tableau  had  to  be  shown 
four  times,  and  then  the  audience  kept  on 
applauding  as  if  they  never  intended  to  stop. 

The  last  one  in  this  series  of  tableaux  was 
the  Hall  of  the  Shields,  as  Keith  had  described 
it  to  Jonesy.  A  whole  row  of  dazzling  shields 
hung  across  the  back  of  the  stage,  emblazoned 
with  the  arms  of  all  the  old  knights  whose 
names  have  come  down  to  us  in  song  or 
story.  Then  for  the  first  time  that  evening 
Miss  Bond  came  out  on  the  stage  where  she 
could  be  seen,  and  told  the  story  of  the  death  of 
King  Arthur,  and  the  passing  away  of  the  order 
of  the  Round  Table.  She  told  it  so  well  that 


Il6     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY 

little  Ted  Fairfax  listened  with  his  mouth  open, 
seeming  to  see  the  great  arm  that  rose  out 
of  the  water  to  take  back  the  king's  sword  into 
the  sea,  from  which  it  had  been  given  him. 
An  arm  like  a  giant's,  "  clothed  in  white  samite, 
mystic,  wonderful,  that  caught  the  sword  by 
the  hilt,  flourished  it  three  times,  and  drew  it 
under  the  mere." 

"  True,  '  the  old  order  changeth,' "  said  Miss 
Bond,  "  but  knighthood  has  not  passed  away. 
The  flower  of  chivalry  has  blossomed  anew  in 
this  new  world,  and  America,  too,  has  her 
Hall  of  the  Shields." 

Just  a  moment  the  curtains  were  drawn 
together,  and  then  were  widely  parted  again, 
as  a  chorus  of  voices  rang  out  with  the  words  : 

"  Hail,  Columbia,  happy  land ; 
Hail,  ye  heroes,  heaven-born  band  !  " 

In  that  moment,  on  every  shield  had  been 
hung  the  pictured  face  of  some  well-known  man 
who  had  helped  to  make  his  country  a  power 
among  the  nations  ;  presidents,  patriots,  philan- 
thropists, statesmen,  inventors,  and  poets,  — 
there  they  were,  from  army  and  navy,  city  and 
farm,  college  halls  and  humble  cabins,  —  a  long, 


JONESY'S    BENEFIT.  1 1/ 

long  line,  and  the  first  was  Washington,  and 
the  last  was  the  "  Hero  of  Manila." 

Cheer  after  cheer  went  up,  and  it  might  have 
been  well  to  have  ended  the  programme  there, 
but  to  satisfy  the  military-loving  little  Ginger, 
one  more  was  added. 

"  There  ought  to  be  a  Goddess  of  Liberty  in 
it,"  she  insisted,  "because  it  is  Washington's 
birthday;  and  if  we  had  been  doing  it  by 
ourselves  we  were  going  to  have  something  in 
it  about  Cuba,  on  papa's  account." 

So  when  the  curtain  rose  the  last  time,  it 
was  on  Sally  Fairfax  as  a  gorgeous  Goddess  of 
Liberty,  conferring  knighthood  on  two  boys  who 
stood  for  the  Army  and  Navy,  while  a  little  dark- 
eyed  girl  knelt  at  their  feet  as  Cuba,  the  dis- 
tressed maiden  whom  their  chivalry  had  rescued. 

It  was  late  when  the  performance  closed ; 
later  still  when  the  children  reached  home  that 
night,  for  Mrs.  Maclntyre  had  determined  to 
have  a  flash-light  picture  taken  of  them,  and 
they  had  to  wait  until  the  photographer  could 
send  home  for  his  camera. 

After  they  reached  the  house  they  could 
hardly  be  persuaded  to  undress.  Virginia 
trailed  up  and  down  the  halls  in  her  royal 


Il8     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 


robes,  Malcolm  clanked  around  in  his  suit 
of  mail  and  plumed  helmet,  and  Keith 
stood  before  a  mirror,  admiring 
the  handsome  little  figure  it 
showed  him. 

"  I  hate  to  take  it  off," 
he  said,  fingering  the 
dazzling  collar,  ablaze 
with  jewels.  "I'd 
like  to  be  a  knight 
always,  and  wear  a 
sword  and  spurs 
every  day." 
"  So  would  I," 
said  Malcolm,  be- 
ginning to  yawn  sleep- 
ily. "  I  wish  that 
Jonesy  had  been  well 
enough  to  go  to-night. 
Isn't  it  splendid  that 
the  Benefit  turned 
out  so  well  ?  Aunt 
Allison  says  there  is  plenty  of  money  now  to 
get  Jonesy's  clothes  and  pay  his  board  till  papa 
comes,  and  send  him  back  to  Barney,  too,  if 
papa  thinks  best  and  hasn't  any  better  plan." 


JONESY'S    BENEFIT.  119 

"  I  wish  there'd  been  enough  money  to  buy 
i  nice  little  home  out  here  in  the  country  for 
him  and  Barney.  Wouldn't  it  have  been  lovely 
if  there  had  a-been  ?  "  cried  Keith. 

"  Well,  I  should  say ! "  answered  Malcolm. 
"  Maybe  we  can  have  another  benefit  some  day 
and  make  enough  for  that." 

With  this  pleasant  prospect  before  them, 
they  laid  aside  their  knightly  garments,  hoping 
to  put  them  on  again  soon  in  Jonesy's  behalf, 
and  talked  about  the  home  that  might  be  his 
some  day,  until  they  fell  asleep. 

The  flash-light  pictures  of  the  three  children 
were  all  that  the  fondest  grandmother  could 
wish.  As  soon  as  they  came,  Keith  carried  his 
away  to  his  room  to  admire  in  private.  "  It  is 
so  pretty  that  it  doesn't  seem  it  can  be  me,"  he 
said,  propping  it  up  on  the  desk  before  him. 
"  I  wish  that  I  could  look  that  way  always." 

The  next  time  that  Miss  Allison  went  into 
the  room  she  found  that  Keith  had  written 
under  it  in  his  round,  boyish  hand,  a  quotation 
that  had  taken  his  fancy  the  first  time  he  heard 
it.  It  was  in  one  of  Miss  Bond's  stories,  and  he 
repeated  it  until  he  learned  it:  " Live  pure, 


I2O    TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

speak  truth,  right  the  wrong,  follow  the  king ; 
else  wherefore  born  f  " 

She  asked  him  about  it  at  bedtime.  "  Why, 
that's  our  motto,"  he  explained.  "Malcolm 
has  it  written  under  his,  too.  We've  made  up 
our  minds  to  be  a  sort  of  knight,  just  as  near 
the  real  thing  as  we  can,  you  know,  and  that  is 
what  knights  have  to  do :  live  pure,  and  speak 
truth,  and  right  the  wrong.  We've  always 
tried  to  do  the  first  two,  so  that  won't  be  so 
hard.  It's  righting  the  wrong  that  will  be  the 
tough  job,  but  we  have  done  it  a  little  teenty, 
weenty  bit  for  Jonesy,  don't  you  think,  auntie  ? 
It  was  all  wrong  that  he  should  have  such  a 
hard  time  and  be  sent  to  an  asylum  away  from 
Barney,  when  we  have  you  all  and  everything 
nice.  Malcolm  and  I  have  been  talking  it  over. 
If  we  could  do  something  to  keep  him  from  grow- 
ing up  into  a  tramp  like  that  awful  man  that 
brought  him  here,  wouldn't  that  be  as  good  a 
deed  as  some  that  the  real  knights  did  ? 
Wouldn't  that  be  serving  our  country,  too, 
Aunt  Allison,  just  a  little  speck  ?  "  He  asked 
the  question  anxiously.  Malcolm  said  nothing, 
but  also  waited  with  a  wistful  look  for  her 
answer. 


JONES Y'S    BENEFIT.  121 

"My  dear  little  Sir  Galahads,"  she  said, 
bending  over  to  give  each  of  the  boys  a  good- 
night kiss,  "  you  will  be  '  really  truly  '  knights  if 
you  can  live  up  to  the  motto  you  have  chosen. 
Heaven  help  you  to  be  always  as  worthy  of 
that  title  as  you  are  to-night !  " 

Keith  held  her  a  moment,  with  both  arms 
around  her  neck.  "What  does  that  mean, 
auntie  ?  "  he  asked.  "  That  is  what  the  pro- 
fessor said,  too,  —  Galahad." 

"  It  is  too  late  to  explain  to  you  to-night," 
she  said,  "  but  I  will  tell  you  sometime  soon, 
dear." 

It  was  several  days  before  she  reminded  them 
of  that  promise.  Then  she  called  them  into  her 
room  and  told  them  the  story  of  Sir  Galahad, 
the  maiden  knight,  whose  "  strength  was  as  the 
strength  of  ten  because  his  heart  was  pure." 
Then  from  a  little  morocco  case,  lined  with 
purple  velvet,  she  took  two  pins  that  she  had 
bought  in  the  city  that  morning.  Each  was  a 
little  white  enamel  flower  with  a  tiny  diamond 
in  the  centre,  like  a  drop  of  dew. 

"  You  can't  wear  armour  in  these  days,"  she 
said,  as  she  fastened  one  on  the  lapel  of  each 
boy's  coat,  "  but  this  shall  be  the  badge  of  your 


122     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

knighthood,  —  '  wearing  the  white  flower  of  a 
blameless  life.'  The  little  pins  will  help  you  to 
remember,  maybe,  and  will  remind  you  that  you 
are  pledged  to  right  the  wrong  wherever  you 
find  it,  in  little  things  as  well  as  great." 

It  was  a  very  earnest  talk  that  followed.  The 
boys  came  out  from  her  room  afterward,  wear- 
ing the  tiny  white  pins,  and  with  a  sweet  seri- 
ousness in  their  faces.  A  noble  purpose  had 
been  born  in  their  hearts  ;  but  alas  for  chivalry  ! 
the  first  thing  they  did  was  to  taunt  Virginia 
with  the  fact  that  she  could  never  be  a  knight 
because  she  was  only  a  girl. 

"  I  don't  care,"  retorted  Ginger,  quickly. 
"  I  can  be  a  —  a  — patriot,  anyhow,  and  that's 
lots  better." 

The  boys  laughed,  and  she  flushed  angrily. 

"  They  ought  to  mean  the  same  thing  exactly 
in  this  day  of  the  world,"  said  Miss  Allison, 
coming  up  in  time  to  hear  the  dispute  that 
followed.  "Virginia,  you  shall  have  a  badge, 
too.  Run  into  my  room  and  bring  me  that 
little  jewelled  flag  on  my  cushion." 

"  I  think  that  this  is  the  very  prettiest  piece 
of  jewelry  you  have,"  exclaimed  Virginia,  com- 
ing back  with  the  pin.  It  was  a  little  flag 


JONESY  S    BENEFIT.  123 

whose  red,  white,  and  blue  was  made  of  tiny 
settings  of  garnets,  sapphires,  and  diamonds. 

"  You  think  that,  because  it  is  in  the  shape 
of  a  flag,"  said  Miss  Allison,  with  an  amused 
smile.  "  Well,  it  shall  be  yours.  See  how 
well  it  can  remind  you  of  the  boys'  knightly 
motto.  There  is  the  white  for  the  first  part, 
the  '  live  pure,'  and  the  '  true  blue '  for  the 
'  speak  truth,'  and  then  the  red,  —  surely  no 
soldier's  little  daughter  needs  to  be  told  what 
that  stands  for,  when  her  own  brave  father  has 
spilled  part  of  his  good  red  life-blood  to  '  right 
the  wrong '  on  the  field  of  battle." 

"  Oh,  Aunt  Allison !  "  was  all  that  Virginia 
could  gasp  in  her  delight  as  she  clasped  the 
precious  pin  tightly  in  her  hand.  "  Is  it  mine  ? 
For  my  very  own  ?  " 

"  For  your  very  own,  dear,"  was  the  answer. 

"  Oh,  I'm  so  glad  !  "  cried  Virginia,  thanking 
her  with  a  kiss.  "  I'd  a  thousand  times  rather 
have  it  than  one  like  the  boys'.  It  means  so 
much  more !  " 


CHAPTER   VI. 

THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES. 

EARLY  in  March,  when  the  crocuses  were 
beginning  to  bud  under  the  dining-room  win- 
dows, there  came  one  of  those  rare  spring 
days  that  seem  to  carry  the  warmth  of  summer 
in  its  sunshine. 

"  Exactly  the  kind  of  a  day  for  a  picnic," 
Virginia  had  said  that  morning,  and  when  her 
grandmother  objected,  saying  that  the  ground 
was  still  too  damp,  she  suggested  having  it  in 
the  hay-barn.  The  boys  piled  the  hay  that  was 
left  from  the  winter's  supply  up  on  one  side  of 
the  great  airy  room,  set  wide  the  big  double 
doors,  and  swept  it  clean. 

"It  is  clean  enough  now  for  even  grand- 
mother to  eat  in,"  said  Virginia,  as  she  spread 
a  cloth  on  the  table  Unc'  Henry  had  carried 
out  for  them.  "  It's  good  enough  for  a  queen. 
Oh,  I'll  tell  you  what  let's  do.  Let's  play  that 
124 


THE  LITTLE  COLONEL'S  TWO  RESCUES.     125 

Malcolm  and  I  are  a  wicked  king  and  queen 
and  Lloyd  is  a  'fair  ladye  '  that  we  have  shut 
up  in  a  dungeon.  This  will  be  a  banquet,  and 
while  we  are  eating  Keith  can  be  the  knight 
who  comes  to  her  rescue  and  carries  her  off  on 
his  pony." 

"  That's  all  right,"  consented  Keith,  "  except 
the  eating  part.  How  can  we  get  our  share  of 
the  picnic  ?" 

"  We'll  save  it  for  you,"  answered  Virginia, 
"and  you  can  eat  it  afterward." 

"  Save  enough  for  Jonesy,  too,"  said  Keith. 
"He  shall  be  my  page  and  help  me  rescue  her. 
I'll  go  and  ask  him  now." 

The  month  had  made  a  great  change  in 
Jonesy.  With  plenty  to  eat,  his  thin  little 
snub-nosed  face  grew  plump  and  bright.  There 
was  a  good-humoured  twinkle  in  his  sharp  eyes, 
and  being  quick  as  a  monkey  at  imitating  the 
movements  of  those  around  him,  Mrs.  Mac- 
Intyre  found  nothing  to  criticise  in  his  manners 
when  Malcolm  and  Keith  brought  him  into  the 
house.  Their  pride  in  him  was  something  amus- 
ing, and  seeing  that,  after  all,  he  was  an  inoffen- 
sive little  fellow,  she  made  no  more  objections 
to  their  playing  with  him. 


126     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

By  the  time  Keith  was  back  again  with 
Jonesy,  the  other  guests  had  arrived,  and  the 
Little  Colonel  had  been  lowered  into  a  deep 
feed-bin,  in  lieu  of  a  dungeon.  The  banquet 
began  in  great  state,  but  in  a  few  moments  was 
interrupted  by  a  fearful  shrieking  from  the 
depths  of  the  bin.  The  fair  ladye  protested 
that  she  would  not  stay  in  her  dungeon. 

"There's  nasty  big  spidahs  down  heah ! " 
she  called.  "  Ow  !  One  is  crawlin'  on  my  neck 
now,  and  my  face  is  all  tangled  up  in  cobwebs  ! 
Get  me  out !  Get  me  out !  Quick,  Gingah  !  " 

The  king  sprang  up  to  go  to  her  rescue,  but 
was  promptly  motioned  to  his  seat  again  by  a 
warning  shake  of  the  other  crowned  head. 

"  Why,  of  course  !  There's  always  spiders  in 
dungeons,"  called  the  wicked  queen,  coolly  help- 
ing herself  to  another  piece  of  chicken.  "  Be- 
sides, you  should  say  'your  Majesty'  when  you 
are  talking  to  me." 

"  But  there's  a  mouse  in  heah,  too,"  she  called 
back,  in  distress.  "  Oo  !  Oo  !  It  ran  ovah  my 
feet.  If  you  don't  make  them  take  me  out  of 
heah,  Gingah  Dudley,  I'll  do  something  awful 
to  you  !  Murdah  !  Murdah  !  "  she  yelled,  pound- 
ing on  the  sides  of  the  bin  with  both  her 


1  THE   LITTLE  COLONEL  HAD   BEEN   LOWERED    INTO   A  DEEP 
FEED-BIN." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES.       129 

fists,  and  stamping  her  little  foot  in  a  furious 
rage. 

Seeing  that  Lloyd  was  really  terrified,  and 
fearing  that  her  screams  would  bring  some  one 
from  the  house,  the  royal  couple  and  their 
guests  sprang  to  the  rescue,  nearly  upsetting 
the  banquet  as  they  did  so.  The  game  would 
have  been  broken  up  then,  when  she  was  lifted 
out  from  the  feed -bin,  red  and  angry,  if  it  had 
not  been  for  the  king's  great  tact.  He  brushed 
the  cobwebs  from  her  face  and  hair,  and  even 
got  down  on  his  royal  knees  to  ask  her  pardon. 

His  polite  coaxing  finally  had  its  effect  on 
the  little  lady,  and  he  persuaded  her  to  climb 
a  ladder  into  a  loft  just  above  them.  Here  on 
a  pile  of  clean  hay,  beside  an  open  window  that 
looked  across  a  peaceful  meadow,  her  anger 
cooled.  Towers  were  far  more  comfortable 
than  dungeons,  in  her  opinion,  and  when  Mal- 
colm came  up  the  ladder  with  a  plateful  of  the 
choicest  morsels  of  the  feast,  she  began  to 
enjoy  her  part  of  the  play.  Jonesy  was  sent 
to  inform  his  knight  of  the  change  from  dungeon, 
to  tower,  and  the  banquet  went  merrily  on. 

He  found  Keith  waiting  below  the  barn,  with 
his  pony  tied  to  a  fence.  On  the  other  side  of 


I3O     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

the  fence  lay  the  railroad  track,  which  skirted 
the  back  of  Mrs.  Maclntyre's  place  for  over  half 
a  mile. 

"  Do  you  see  that  hand-car  ? "  asked  Keith, 
pointing  with  his  riding-whip  to  one  on  the 
track.  "  The  section  boss  let  Malcolm  and  me 
ride  up  and  down  on  it  all  afternoon  one  day 
this  winter.  Some  workman  left  it  on  the 
switch  while  ago,  and  while  you  were  up  at  the 
barn  I  got  two  darkeys  to  move  it  for  me.  They 
didn't  want  to  at  first,  but  I  knew  that  there'd 
be  no  train  along  for  an  hour,  and  told  'em  so, 
and  they  finally  did  it  for  a  dime  apiece.  As 
soon  as  I  rescue  Lloyd  I'll  dash  down  here  on 
my  pony  with  her  behind  me.  Then  we'll  slip 
through  the  fence  and  get  on  the  hand-car,  and 
be  out  of  sight  around  the  curve  before  the  rest 
get  here.  They  won't  know  where  on  earth 
we've  gone,  and  it  will  be  the  best  joke  on  them. 
It's  down  grade  all  the  way  to  the  section-house, 
so  I  can  push  it  easily  enough  by  myself,  but 
I'll  need  your  help  coming  back,  maybe.  S'pose 
you  cut  across  lots  to  the  section-house  as  soon 
as  I  start  to  the  barn,  and  meet  me  there.  It 
isn't  half  as  far  that  way,  so  you'll  get  there 
as  soon  as  we  do." 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES.       13! 

"  All  right,"  said  Jonesy.     "  I'm  your  kid." 
"  You  should  say,  '  'Tis  well,  Sir  Knight,  I 
fly  to  do  thy  bidding,'  "  prompted  Keith. 


Jonesy  grinned.  He  could  not  enter  into 
the  spirit  of  the  play  as  the  others  did.  "  Aw, 
I'll  be  on  time,"  he  said ;  then,  as  Keith  untied 
his  pony,  started  on  a  run  across  the  fields. 

The  Lady  Lloyd  had  not  finished  her  repast 


132     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

when  her  rescuer  appeared,  but  she  put  the 
plate  down  on  the  hay  to  await  her  return, 
and  obediently  climbed  down  the  ladder  he 
placed  for  her.  They  reached  the  fence  before 
the  banqueters  knew  that  she  had  escaped. 
Flinging  the  pony's  bridle  over  a  fence-post, 
when  they  reached  the  edge  of  the  field,  the 
brave  knight  crawled  through  the  fence  and 
pulled  Lloyd  after  him,  tearing  her  dress, 
much  to  that  dainty  little  lady's  extreme 
disgust. 

By  the  time  the  king  and  his  guard  were 
mounted  in  pursuit,  on  the  other  pony  which 
stood  in  waiting,  the  runaways  were  in  the 
hand-car.  It  moved  slowly  at  first,  although 
Keith  was  strong  for  his  age,  and  his  hardy 
little  muscles  were  untiring. 

"  Isn't  it  lovely  ?  "  cried  Lloyd,  as  they  moved 
faster  and  faster  and  swept  around  the  curve. 
"  I  wish  we  could  go  all  the  way  to  Louisville 
on  this."  The  warm  March  wind  fanned  hef 
pink  cheeks,  and  blew  her  soft  light  hair  into 
her  eyes.' 

Jonesy  was  waiting  at  the  section-house,  and 
waved  his  cap  as  they  passed.  "  We're  going 
on,  around  the  next  bend,"  shouted  Keith,  as 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES.        133 

they  passed  him.  "  Whoop-la !  this  is  fine,  and 
not  a  bit  hard  to  work  ! " 

"  What  will  the  wicked  queen  think  when 
she  can't  find  us  ? "  asked  Lloyd,  laughing 
happily,  as  they  sped  on  down  the  track. 

"  She'll  think  that  I  am  a  magician  and  have 
spirited  you  away,"  said  Keith. 

"Then  if  you  are  a  magician  you  ought  to 
change  her  into  a  nasty  black  spidah,  to  pay 
her  back  fo'  shuttin'  me  up  with  them  !  "  Lloyd 
was  delighted  with  this  new  play.  For  the 
time  it  seemed  as  if  she  really  were  escaping 
from  a  castle  prison.  Faster  and  faster  they 
went.  Jonesy,  who  had  followed  them  to  the 
second  curve,  stood  watching  them  with  wistful 
eyes,  wishing  he  could  be  with  them.  They 
passed  the  depot,  and  then  the  hand-car  seemed 
to  grow  smaller  and  smaller  as  it  rolled  away, 
until  it  was  only  a  moving  speck  in  the  distance. 
Then  he  turned  and  walked  back  to  the  sec- 
tion-house. 

"  I  s'pect  we've  gone  about  far  enough,"  said 
Keith,  after  awhile.  "  We'd  better  turn  around 
now  and  go  back,  or  the  picnic  will  all  be  over 
before  we  get  our  share.  Let's  wait  here  a 
minute  till  I  rest  rny  arms,  and  then  we'll  start," 


134     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

The  place  where  they  had  stopped  was  the 
loneliest  part  of  the  track  that  could  be  found 
in  miles,  on  either  side.  It  was  in  the  midst 
of  a  thick  beech  woods,  and  the  twitter  of  a 
bird,  now  and  then,  was  the  only  sound  in  all 
the  deep  stillness. 

"  What  lovely  green  moss  on  that  bank !  " 
cried  the  Little  Colonel.  "Wouldn't  it  make 
a  beautiful  carpet  for  our  playhouse  down  by 
the  old  mill  ? " 

"  I'll  get  you  some,"  said  Keith,  gallantly 
springing  from  the  car  and  clambering  up  the 
bank.  Taking  out  his  knife,  he  began  to  cut 
great  squares  of  the  velvety  green  moss,  and 
pile  it  up  to  carry  back  to  the  hand-car. 

Meanwhile  Jonesy  waited  at  the  section- 
house,  digging  his  heels  into  the  cinders  that 
lined  the  track,  and  looking  impatiently  down 
the  road.  Presently  the  section  boss  came 
limping  along  painfully,  and  sat  down  on  the 
bank  in  the  warm  spring  sunshine.  He  had 
dropped  a  piece  of  heavy  machinery  on  his 
foot,  the  week  before,  and  was  only  able  to 
hobble  short  distances. 

Everybody  in  the  Valley  was  interested  in 
Jonesy  since  the  fire  and  the  Benefit  had  made 


THE    LITTLE    COLONELS    TWO    RESCUES.       1 35 

him  so  well  known,  and  the  man  was  glad  of 
this  opportunity  to  satisfy  his  curiosity  about 
the  boy.  Jonesy,  with  all  the  fearlessness  of 
a  little  street  gamin  brought  up  in  a  big  city, 
answered  him  fearlessly,  even  saucily  at  times, 
much  to  the  man's  amusement. 

"  So  you  want  to  get  a  job  around  here,  do 
you  ? "  said  the  man,  presently,  with  a  grin. 
"  Maybe  I  can  give  you  one.  Know  anything 
about  railroadin'  ? " 

"  Heaps,"  answered  Jonesy.  "  Well,  I'd 
ought  to,  seein'  as  I've  lived  next  door  to  the 
engine  yards  all  my  life,  and  spent  my  time 
dodgin'  the  cop  on  watch  there,  when  I  was 
tryin'  to  steal  rides  on  freight-cars  and  such." 

"  Is  that  what  you're  hangin'  around  here 
now  for  ? "  asked  the  man,  with  a  good-natured 
twinkle  in  his  eyes. 

"  Nope  !  I'm  waiting  for  that  Maclsityre  kid 
to  come  back  this  way.  He  went  down  the 
track  a  bit  ago  on  a  hand-car,  playing  rescue 
a  princess  with  one  of  the  girls  at  the  picnic." 

The  section  boss  sprang  up  with  an  exclama- 
tion of  alarm.  "  How  far's  he  gone  ? "  he  asked. 
"  There's  a  special  due  to  pass  here  in  a  few 
minutes." 


136  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

Even  while  he  spoke  there  sounded  far  away 
in  the  distance,  so  far  that  it  was  like  only  a 
faint  echo,  the  whistle  of  an  approaching  loco- 
motive. The  man  hobbled  down  the  track  a 
yard  or  so  and  stopped.  "  What  do  you  sup- 
pose they'll  do  ? "  he  asked.  "  There  are  so  many 
bends  in  this  road,  the  train  may  come  right 
on  to  'em  before  the  engineer  sees  'em.  S'pose 
they'll  jump  off,  or  turn  and  try  to  come 
back  ?  " 

Jonesy  glanced  around  wildly  a  second,  and 
then  sprang  forward  toward  the  man. 

"  Give  me  the  switch-key !  "  he  cried,  in  a  high 
voice,  shrill  with  excitement.  "  You  can't  run, 
but  I  can.  Give  me  the  switch-key ! "  Per- 
plexed by  the  sudden  turn  of  affairs  and  the 
little  fellow's  commanding  tone,  the  man  took 
the  key  from  his  pocket.  He  realised  his  own 
helplessness  to  do  anything,  and  there  was 
something  in  Jonesy 's  manner  that  inspired  con- 
fidence. He  felt  that  the  child's  quick  wit  had 
grasped  the  situation  and  formed  some  sensible 
plan  of  action. 

Again  the  whistle  sounded  in  the  distance, 
and,  snatching  the  key,  Jonesy  was  off  down  the 
track  like  an  arrow.  The  section  boss,  leaning 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES.        137 

heavily  on  his  cane,  limped  after  him  as  fast  as 
he  could. 

Keith  and  the  Little  Colonel,  having  gathered 
the  moss  and  started  back  home,  were  rolling 
leisurely  along,  still  talking  of  magicians  and 
their  ilk. 

"  What  if  we  should  meet  a  dragon  ?  "  cried 
the  Little  Colonel.  "A  dragon  with  a  scaly 
green  tail,  and  red  eyes  and  a  fiery  tongue. 
What  would  you  do  then  ?  " 

"  I'd  say,  '  What !  Ho !  Thou  monster ! ' 
and  cleave  him  in  twain  with  my  good  broad- 
sword, and  when  he  saw  its  shining  blade  smite 
through  the  air  he'd  just  curl  up  and  die." 

Keith  looked  back  to  smile  at  the  bright 
laughing  face  beside  him.  Then  he  caught 
sight  of  something  over  his  shoulder  that  made 
him  pause.  "  Oh,  look  !  "  he  cried,  pointing  over 
the  tree-tops  behind  them.  A  little  puff  of 
smoke,  rising  up  in  the  distance,  trailed  along 
the  sky  like  a  long  banner.  At  the  same  in 
stant,  out  of  the  smoke,  sounded  the  whistle 
of  an  approaching  engine.  The  track  behind 
them  had  so  many  turns,  he  could  not  judge 
of  their  distance  from  it,  and  for  an  instant  he 
stopped  working  the  handle  bar  up  and  down, 


138     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

too  thoroughly  frightened  to  know  what  to  do 
An  older  child  might  have  acted  differently ; 
might  have  jumped  from  the  hand-car  and  left 
it  to  be  run  into  by  the  approaching  train,  or 
have  hurried  back  around  the  bend  to  flag  the 
engine.  But  Keith  had  only  one  idea  left :  that 
was  to  keep  ahead  of  the  train  as  long  as  possi- 
ble. It  seemed  so  far  away  he  thought  they 
could  surely  reach  the  depot  before  it  caught  up 
with  them,  and  his  sturdy  little  arms  bent  to  the 
task. 

For  a  moment  there  was  a  real  pleasure  in 
the  exertion.  He  felt  with  an  excited  thrill 
that  he  was  really  running  away  with  the  Little 
Colonel,  and  rescuing  her  from  a  pursuing  dan- 
ger. Suddenly  the  whistle  sounded  again,  and 
this  time  it  seemed  so  close  behind  them  that 
the  Little  Colonel  gave  a  terrified  glance  over 
her  shoulder  and  then  screamed  at  the  sight  of 
the  great  snorting  monster,  breathing  out  fire 
and  smoke,  worse  than  any  scaly-tailed  dragon 
that  she  had  ever  imagined.  It  was  far  down 
the  track  but  they  could  hear  its  terrible  rumble 
as  it  rushed  over  a  trestle,  and  the  singing  of 
the  wires  overhead. 

Keith  was  straining  every  muscle  now,  but  it 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL  S    TWO    RESCUES.        1 39 

was  like  running  in  a  nightmare.  His  arms 
moved  up  and  down  at  a  furious  speed,  but  it 
seemed  to  him  that  the  hand-car  was  glued  to 
one  spot.  It  seemed,  too,  that  it  had  been 
hours  since  they  first  discovered  that  the  engine 
was  after  them,  and  he  felt  that  he  would 
soon  be  too  exhausted  to  move  another 
stroke.  Would  the  depot  never  never  come  in 
sight  ? 

Just  then  they  shot  around  the  curve  and 
caught  sight  of  Jonesy  at  the  depot  switch, 
wildly  beckoning  with  his  cap  and  shouting  for 
them  to  come  on.  At  that  sight,  with  one 
supreme  effort  Keith  put  his  fast-failing  strength 
to  the  test,  and  sent  the  hand-car  rolling  for- 
ward faster  than  ever.  It  shot  past  the  switch 
that  Jonesy  had  unlocked  and  off  to  the  side- 
track, just  as  the  train  bore  down  upon  them 
around  the  last  bend. 

There  was  barely  time  for  Jonesy  to  set  the 
switch  again  before  it  thundered  on  along 
the  main  track  past  the  little  depot.  Being  a 
special,  it  did  not  stop.  As  it  went  shrieking 
by,  the  engineer  cast  a  curious  glance  at  a  hand- 
car on  the  side-track.  A  little  girl  sat  on  it, 
a  pretty  golden-haired  child  with  dark  eyes  big 


140  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

with  fright,  and  her  face  as  white  as  her  dress. 
He  wondered  what  was  the  matter. 

For  a  moment  after  the  shrieking  train 
ivhizzed  by  everything  seemed  deathly  still. 
Keith  sat  leaning  against  the  embankment, 
white  and  limp  from  exhaustion  and  the  excite- 
ment of  his  close  escape.  Jonesy  was  panting 
and  wiping  the  perspiration  from  his  red  face, 
for  he  had  run  like  a  deer  to  reach  the  switch 
in  time. 

"  I  couldn't  have  held  out  a  minute  longer," 
said  Keith,  presently.  "  My  arms  felt  like  they 
had  gone  to  sleep,  and  I  was  just  ready  to  give 
up  when  I  caught  sight  of  you.  That  seemed 
to  give  me  strength  to  go  on,  when  I  saw  what 
you  were  at  and  that  it  would  only  be  a  little 
farther  to  go  before  we  would  be  safe.  How 
did  you  happen  to  be  at  the  switch,  and  know 
how  to  set  it  ?  " 

"  Hain't  lived  all  my  life  around  engine  yards 
fer  nothin',"  answered  Jonesy.  "Why  didn't 
you  jump  off  and  flag  the  train  ? " 

"  I  was  so  taken  by  surprise  I  didn't  think 
of  that,"  answered  Keith.  "The  only  thing  1 
knew  was  that  we  had  to  keep  ahead  of  it  as 
long  as  possible.  You've  saved  my  life,  Jones 


THE    LITTLE    COLONEL'S    TWO    RESCUES.        14! 

Carter,  and  I'll  never  forget  it,  no  matter  what 
comes." 

"  I've  been  rescued  twice  to-day,"  said  the 
Little  Colonel,  taking  a  deep  breath  as  she 
began  to  recover  from  her  fright.  "Jonesy 
ought  to  be  a  knight,  too." 

"  That's  so !  "  exclaimed  Keith,  springing  to 
his  feet.  "  Come  on  and  let's  go  back  to  the 
barn.  We'll  tell  our  adventures,  and  then 
we'll  go  through  the  ceremony  of  making  Jonesy 
a  Sir  Something  or  other.  He's  certainly  won 
his  spurs." 

"  Goin'  back  on  the  hand-car  ?  "  asked  Jonesy. 

"  Not  much,"  answered  Keith,  with  a  sickly 
sort  of  smile.  "  Somehow  such  fast  travelling 
doesn't  seem  to  agree  with  a  fellow.  Walking 
is  good  enough  for  me." 

"  Me  too  !  "  cried  the  Little  Colonel,  tying  on 
her  white  sunbonnet.  "  But  the  first  part  of  it 
was  lovely,  — just  like  flyin'." 

Jonesy  ran  back  to  give  the  man  his  key,  and 
was  kept  answering  questions  so  long  that  he 
did  not  catch  up  with  the  other  children  until 
they  were  in  sight  of  the  barn. 

"  After  all,"  said  Keith,  as  the  three  trudged 
along  together,  "  maybe  we'd  better  not  tell 


142     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

how  near  we  came  to  being  run  over.  Grand- 
mother and  Aunt  Allison  would  be  dreadfully 
worried  if  they  should  hear  of  it.  They  are 
always  worrying  for  fear  something  will  happen 
to  us." 

"Mothah  would  be  wild"  exclaimed  the 
Little  Colonel,  "  if  she  knew  I  had  been  in  any 
dangah.  Maybe  she  wouldn't  let  me  out  of  her 
sight  again  to  play  all  summah." 

"  Then  let's  don't  tell  for  a  long,  long  time," 
proposed  Keith.  "  It'll  be  our  secret,  just  for 
us  three." 

"  All  right,"  the  others  agreed.  They  dropped 
the  subject  then,  for  the  barn  was  just  ahead 
of  them,  and  the  gay  picnickers  came  running 
out,  demanding  to  know  where  they  had  been 
so  long. 

The  Little  Colonel  often  spoke  of  her  expe- 
rience afterward  to  the  two  boys,  however,  and 
in  Keith's  day-dreams  a  home  for  Jonesy  began 
to  crowd  out  all  other  hopes  and  plans. 


CHAPTER  VII. 

A    GAME   OF    INDIAN. 

KEITH  was  stiff  for  a  week  after  his  race  on 
the  hand-car,  but  did  his  groaning  in  private. 
He  knew  what  a  commotion  would  be  raised  if 
the  matter  came  to  his  grandmother's  ears. 
She  had  lived  all  winter  in  constant  dread  of 
accidents.  Malcolm  had  been  carried  home 
twice  in  an  unconscious  state,  once  from  hav- 
ing been  thrown  from  his  bicycle,  and  once 
from  falling  through  a  trap-door  in  the  barn. 
Keith  had  broken  through  the  ice  on  the  pond, 
sprained  his  wrist  while  coasting,  and  walked 
in  half  a  dozen  times  with  the  blood  streaming 
from  some  wound  on  his  head  or  face. 

Virginia  had  never  been  hurt,  but  her  hair- 
breadth escapes  would  have  filled  a  volume. 
An  amusing  one  was  the  time  she  lassoed  a 
young  calf,  Indian  fashion,  to  show  the  boys 

M3 


144     Two    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

how  it  should  be  done.  Its  angry  mother  was 
in  the  next  lot,  but  Virginia  felt  perfectly  safe 
as  she  swung  her  lariat  and  dragged  the  bleating 
calf  around  the  barn-yard.  She  did  not  stop  to 
consider  that  if  a  cow  with  lofty  ambitions  had 
once  jumped  over  the  moon,  one  which  saw  its 
calf  in  danger  might  easily  leap  a  low  hedge. 
Malcolm's  warning  shout  came  just  in  time  to 
save  her  from  being  gored  by  the  angry  animal, 
who  charged  at  her  with  lowered  horns.  She 
sprang  up  the  ladder  leading  to  the  corn-crib 
window,  where  she  was  safe,  but  she  had  to  hang 
there  until  Unc'  Henry  could  be  called  to  the 
rescue. 

It  was  with  many  misgivings  that  Mrs.  Mac- 
intyre  and  Miss  Allison  started  to  the  city  one 
morning  in  April.  It  was  the  first  time  since 
the  children's  coming  that  they  had  both  gone 
away  at  once,  and  nothing  but  urgent  business 
would  have  made  them  consent  to  go. 

The  children  promised  at  least  a  dozen  things. 
They  would  keep  away  from  the  barn,  the  live 
stock,  the  railroad,  the  ponds,  and  the  cisterns. 
They  would  not  ride  their  wheels,  climb  trees, 
nor  go  off  the  Maclntyre  premises,  and  they 
would  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  snakes  and 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  I4/ 

poison  ivy,  in  case  they  went  into  the  woods  for 
wild  flowers. 

"  Seems  to  me  there's  migbty  little  left  that  a 
fellow  can  do,"  said  Keith,  when  the  long  list 
was  completed. 

"Oh,  the  time  will  soon  pass,"  said  his  grand- 
mother, who  was  preparing  to  take  the  eleven 
o'clock  train.  "  It  will  soon  be  lunch-time. 
Then  this  is  the  day  for  you  each  to  write  your 
weekly  letters  to  your  mother,  and  it  is  so 
pretty  in  the  woods  now  that  I  am  sure  you 
will  enjoy  looking  for  violets." 

Time  did  pass  quickly,  as  their  grandmother 
had  said  it  would,  until  the  middle  of  the  after- 
noon. Then  Virginia  began  to  wish  for  some- 
thing more  amusing  than  the  quiet  guessing 
games  they  had  been  playing  in  the  library. 
The  boys  each  picked  up  a  book,  and  she 
strolled  off  up-stairs,  in  search  of  a  livelier 
occupation. 

In  a  few  minutes  she  came  down,  looking  like 
a  second  Pocahontas  in  her  Indian  suit,  with  her 
bow  and  arrows  slung  over  her  shoulder. 

"  I  am  going  down  to  the  woods  to  practise 
shooting,"  she  announced,  as  she  stopped  to 
look  in  at  the  door. 


I4&     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"Oh,  wait  just  a  minute!"  begged  Mal- 
colm, throwing  down  his  book.  "  Let's  all  play 
Indian  this  afternoon.  We'll  rig  up,  too,  and 
build  a  wigwam  down  by  the  spring  rock,  and 
make  a  fire,  —  grandmother  didn't  say  we 
couldn't  make  a  fire  ;  that's  about  the  only 
thing  she  forgot  to  tell  us  not  to  do." 

••'  You  can  come  on  when  you  get  ready," 
answered  Virginia.  "I'm  going  now,  because 
it  is  getting  late,  but  you'll  find  me  near  the 
spring  when  you  come.  Just  yell." 

The  boys  could  not  hope  to  rival  Virginia's 
Indian  costume,  but  no  wilder-looking  little 
savages  ever  uttered  a  war-whoop  than  the  two 
which  presently  dashed  into  the  still  April 
woods. 

Malcolm  had  ripped  some  variegated  fringe 
from  a  table-cover  to  pin  down  the  sides  of  his 
leather  leggins.  He  had  borrowed  a  Roman 
blanket  from  Aunt  Allison's  couch  to  pin  around 
his  shoulders,  and  emptied  several  tubes  of  her 
most  expensive  paints  to  streak  his  face  with 
hideous  stripes  and  daubs.  A  row  of  feathers 
from  the  dust-brush  was  fastened  around  his 
forehead  by  a  broad  band,  and  a  hatchet  from 
the  woodshed  provided  him  with  a  tomahawk. 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  149 

Keith  had  no  time  to  arrange  feathers.  He 
had  taken  off  his  flannels  in  order  to  put  on  an 
old  striped  bathing-suit,  which  he  had  found 
in  the  attic  and  stored  away,  intending  to  use  it 
for  swimming  in  the  pond  when  the  weather 
should  grow  warm  enough.  It  had  no  sleeves, 
and  the  short  trousers  had  shrunk  until  they 
did  not  half-way  reach  his  knees.  Its  red  and 
white  stripes  had  faded  and  the  colour  run  until 
the  whole  was  a  dingy  "  crushed  strawberry " 
shade.  As  Malcolm  had  emptied  all  the  tubes 
of  red  paint  in  his  Aunt  Allison's  box,  Keith 
had  to  content  himself  with  some  other  colour. 
He  chose  the  different  shades  of  green,  squeez- 
ing the  paint  out  on  his  plump  little  legs  and 
arms,  and  rubbing  it  around  with  his  fore  finger 
until  he  was  encircled  with  as  many  stripes  as  a 
zebra.  Although  the  day  was  warm  for  the 
early  part  of  April,  -the  sudden  change  from  his 
customary  clothes  and  spring  flannels  to  noth- 
ing but  the  airy  bathing  suit  and  war-paint 
made  him  a  trifle  chilly ;  so  he  completed  his 
costume  by  putting  on  a  pair  of  scarlet  bed- 
room slippers,  edged  with  dark  fur. 

With  the  dropping  of  their  civilised  clothing, 
the  boys  seemed  to  have  dropped  all  recollec- 


I5O     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

tions  of  their  professed  knighthood,  and  acted 
like  the  little  savages  they  looked. 

"  We're  going  to  shoot  with  your  things 
awhile,  Ginger,"  shouted  Keith,  coming  sud- 
denly upon  her  with  a  whoop,  and  snatching 
her  bow  out  of  her  hands.  "You  are  the 
squaw,  so  you  have  to  do  all  the  work.  Get 
down  there  now  behind  that  rock  and  make  a 
fire,  while  we  go  out  and  kill  a  deer.  You 
must  build  a  wigwam,  too,  by  the  time  we  get 
back.  Hear  me?  I'm  a  big  chief!  'I  am 
Famine  —  Buckadawin  ! '  and  I'll  make  a  living 
skeleton  of  you  if  you  don't  hustle." 

Virginia  was  furious.  "  I'll  not  be  a  squaw  !  " 
she  cried.  "And  I'll  not  build  a  fire  or  do  any- 
thing else  if  you  talk  so  rudely.  If  you  don't 
give  me  back  my  bow  and  let  me  be  a  chief, 
too,  I'll  —  I'll  get  even  with  you,  sir,  in  a  way 
you  won't  like  I  have  short  hair,  and  my 
clothes  are  more  Indian  than  yours,  and  I  can 
shoot  better  than  either  of  you,  anyhow!  So 
there !  Give  me  my  bow." 

"What  will  you  do  if  I  won't  ?"  said  Keith, 
teasmgly,  holding  it  behind  him. 

"  I'll  go  up  to  the  barn  and  get  a  rope,  and 
lasso  you  like  I  did  that  calf,  and  drag  you  all 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN. 


I5V 


over  the  place !  "  cried  Virginia,  her  eyes  shin- 
ing with  fierce  determination. 

"  She  means  it,  Keith,"  said  Malcolm.   "  She'll 
do  it  sure,  if  you  don't  stop  teasing.     Oh,  give 


it  to  her  and  come  along,  or  it  will    be   dark 
before  we  begin  to  play." 

Matters    went  on  more  smoothly  after  Mal- 
colm's efforts  at  peacemaking,  and  when  it  was 


152     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

decided  that  Ginger  could  be  a  brave,  too,  in- 
stead of  a  squaw,  they  were  soon  playing 
together  as  pleasantly  as  if  they  had  found  the 
happy  hunting  grounds.  The  short  afternoon 
waned  fast,  and  the  shadows  were  growing  deep 
when  they  reached  the  last  part  of  the  game. 
Ginger  had  been  taken  prisoner,  and  they  were 
tying  her  to  a  tree,  with  her  hands  bound 
securely  behind  her  back.  She  rather  enjoyed 
this  part  of  it,  for  she  intended  to  show  them 
how  brave  she  could  be. 

"  Now  we'll  sit  around  the  council  fire  and 
decide  how  to  torture  her,"  said  Malcolm,  when 
the  captive  was  securely  tied.  But  the  fire  was 
out  and  they  had  no  matches.  The  lot  fell  on 
Malcolm  to  run  up  to  the  house  and  get  some. 

"A  fire  would  feel  good,"  said  Keith,  looking 
around  with  a  shiver  as  he  seated  himself  on  a 
log  near  Ginger.  The  sun  was  low  in  the  west, 
and  very  little  of  its  light  and  warmth  found  its 
way  into  the  woods  where  the  children  were 
playing. 

"  It  makes  me  think  of  Hiawatha,"  said 
Ginger,  looking  down  at  several  long  streaks  of 
golden  light  which  lay  across  the  ground  at  her 
feet.  "  Don't  you  remember  how  it  goes  ? 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  153 

'And  the  long  and  level  sunbeams  shot  their 
spears  into  the  forest,  breaking  through  its 
shield  of  shadow.'  Isn't  that  pretty?  I  love 
Hiawatha.  I  am  going  to  learn  pages  and  pages 
of  it  some  day.  I  know  all  that  part  about 
Minnehaha  now." 

"  Say  it  while  we  are  waiting,"  said  Keith, 
pulling  his  short  trousers  down  as  far  as  possi- 
ble, and  wishing  that  he  had  sleeves,  or  else  that 
the  paint  were  thicker  on  his  chilly  arms. 

"  All  right,"  began  Virginia. 

" i  Oh  the  long  and  dreary  winter ! 
Oh  the  coid  and  cruel  winter ! 
Ever  thicker,  thicker,  thicker 
Froze  the  ice  on  lake  and  river.'  " 

"Ugh!  Don't!"  interrupted  Keith,  with  a 
shiver.  "  It  makes  my  teeth  chatter,  talking 
about  such  cold  things  !  " 

Just  then  a  shout  came  ringing  down  the  hill, 
"  Oh,  Keith  !  Come  here  a  minute  !  Quick  !  " 

"  What  do  you  wa-ant  ? "  yelled  Keith,  in 
return. 

"  Come  up  here  !  Quick  !  Hurry  up  !  " 

"  What  do  you  s'pose  can  be  the  matter  ? " 
exclaimed  Keith,  scrambling  to  his  feet. 
"  Maybe  the  bear  has  got  loose  and  run  away." 


154     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

"  Come  and  untie  me  first,"  said  Virginia, 
"  and  I'll  go,  too."  Keith  gave  several  quick  tugs 
at  the  many  knotted  string  which  bound  her, 
but  could  not  loosen  it.  Again  the  call  came, 
impatient  and  sharp,  "  Keith  !  Oh,  Keith !  " 

"Oh,  I  can't  loosen  it  a  bit,"  said  Keith. 
'  You'll  have  to  wait  till  Malcolm  comes  with 
his  knife.  We'll  be  back  in  just  a  minute.  I'll 
go  and  see  what's  the  matter." 

'  Be  sure  that  you  don't  stay ! "  screamed 
Ginger,  as  the  scarlet  bedroom  slippers  and 
green  striped  legs  flashed  out  of  sight  through 
the  bushes. 

r'  Back  —  in  —  a  —  minute !  "  sounded  shrilly 
thn  ugh  the  woods. 

Keith  found  Malcolm  on  the  back  porch, 
pour  ding  excitedly  on  a  box  which  the  express- 
man had  left  there  a  few  minutes  before. 

'It's  the  camera  we  have  been  looking  for 
all  week,"  he  cried.  "  Come  on  and  have  a  look 
at  it, " 

'  (linger  said  to  hurry  back,"  said  Keith. 

'-Pshaw!  It  won't  take  but  a  minute.  I'll 
pry  the  box  open  in  a  jiffy." 

It  was  harder  work  than  the  boys  had  sup- 
posed, to  take  the  tightly  nailed  lid  from  its 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  155 

place,  and  they  were  so  intent  on  their  work 
they  did  not  realise  how  quickly  the  minutes 
were  passing. 

"  Isn't  it  a  beauty  ? "  exclaimed  Malcolm, 
when  it  was  at  last  unpacked.  "  It's  lots  bigger 
and  finer  than  the  one  papa  promised.  But 
that's  the  way  he  always  does.  Oh,  isn't  it  a 
peach ! " 

"  I'll  tell  you  what,"  said  Keith,  dancing  up 
and  down  in  his  excitement,  until  he  looked  like 
a  ridiculous  little  clown  in  the  faded  pink  bath- 
ing-suit and  his  stripes  of  green  paint,  "let's 
take  each  other's  pictures  while  we  are  dressed 
this  way.  We  may  never  look  so  funny  again, 
and  we  can  go  down  and  take  Ginger,  too,  while 
she  is  tied  to  the  tree." 

"Can't  now,"  said  Malcolm,  "it's  too  dark 
down  there  in  the  woods  by  this  time.  See ! 
there  is  nothing  left  now  of  the  sun  but  those 
red  clouds  above  the  place  where  it  went  down. 
I'm  afraid  it  is  too  dark  even  for  us  up  here  on 
the  hill ;  but  we  can  try.  You  do  look  funny, 
just  like  a  jumping-jack  or  a  monkey  on  a 
stick." 

"  Surely  Ginger  won't  mind  waiting  long 
enough  for  us  to  do  it,"  said  Keith.  "  Any- 


156     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

how  we  can  never  dress  up  this  way  again,  and 
grandmother  will  be  coming  home  very  soon,  so 
you  take  mine  quick,  and  I  will  take  yours." 

The  boys  had  had  some  practice  before  with 
a  cheap  little  camera,  but  this  required  some 
studying  of  the  printed  directions  before  they 
could  use  it.  The  first  time  they  tried  it  the 
plates  were  put  in  wrong,  and  the  second  time 
they  forgot  to  remove  the  cap.  There  were 
other  things  in  the  box  besides  the  camera : 
some  beautiful  pink  curlew's  wings,  a  hand- 
somely marked  snake  skin,  and  some  rare  shells 
that  had  been  picked  up  on  the  Gulf  coast.  Of 
course  the  boys  had  to  examine  each  new  treas- 
ure as  it  was  discovered.  One  thing  after 
another  delayed  them  until  it  was  dusk  even 
on  the  porch  where  they  stood,  and  in  the 
woods  below  a  deep  twilight  had  fallen. 

Every  minute  that  had  sped  by  so  rapidly  for 
che  boys,  seemed  an  age  to  the  captive  Virginia. 
Her  arms  ached  from  the  strain  of  their  un- 
usual position.  Swarms  of  gnats  flew  about, 
stinging  her  face,  and  mosquitoes  buzzed  teas- 
ingly  around  her  ears.  She  was  unable  to 
move  a  finger  to  drive  them  away. 

When  the  boys  had  been  gone  fifteen  min- 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  157 

utes  she  thought  they  must  have  been  away 
hours.  At  the  end  of  half  an  hour  she  was 
wild  with  impatience  to  get  loose,  but,  thinking 
they  might  return  any  minute,  she  made  no 
sign  of  her  discomfort.  She  would  be  as 
heroic  as  the  bravest  brave  ever  tortured  by 
cruel  savages.  As  long  as  it  was  light  she 
kept  up  her  courage,  but  presently  it  began 
to  grow  dark  under  the  great  beech-trees.  A 
frog  down  by  the  spring  set  up  a  dismal  croak- 
ing. What  if  they  should  not  come  back,  and 
her  grandmother  and  Aunt  Allison  should  miss 
the  train,  and  have  to  stay  in  the  city  all  night ! 
Then  nobody  would  come  to  set  her  free,  and 
she  would  have  to  stay  in  the  lonely  woods  all 
by  herself,  tied  to  a  tree,  with  her  hands  behind 
her  back. 

At  that  thought  she  began  calling,  "Keith! 
Keith  !  Malcolm  !  Oh,  Malcolm  !  "  but  only  an 
echo  came  back  to  her,  as  it  had  to  the  dying 
Minnehaha,  —  a  far-away  echo  that  mocked  her 
with  its  teasing  cry  of  "  Mal-colm  !  "  Call  after 
call  went  ringing  through  the  woods,  but  nobody 
answered.  Nobody  came. 

There  was  a  rustling  through  the  leaves  be- 
hind her,  as  of  a  snake  gliding  around  the  tree. 


158     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 


She  was  not  afraid  of  snakes  in  the  daytime, 
and  when  she  was  unbound,  but  she  shrieked 
and  turned  cold  at  the  thought  of  one  wriggling 
across  her  feet  while  she  was  powerless  to  get 
away.  Every  time  a 
twig  snapped,  or  there 
was  a  fluttering  in  the 
bushes,  she  strained 
her  eyes  to  see  what 
horrible  thing  might 
be  creeping  up  to- 
ward her.  She  had 
no  thought  that  live 
Indians  might  be 
lurking  about,  but  all 
the  terrible  stories 
she  had  ever  heard, 
of  the  days  of  Daniel 
Boone  and  the  early 
settlers,  came  back 
to  haunt  the  woods 
with  a  nameless  dread. 
She  felt  that  she  was  standing  on  the  real 
Kentucky  that  the  Indians  meant,  when  they 
gave  the  State  its  name.  "Dark  and  bloody 
ground!  Dark  and  bloody  ground!'1  some- 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  159 

thing  seemed  to  say  just  behind  her.  Then 
the  trees  took  it  up,  and  all  the  leaves  whis- 
pered, "  S/i  —  s/i,  sk  !  Dark  and  bloody  ground! 
Sk  —  s/i!" 

At  that  she  was  so  frightened  that  she  began 
calling  again,  but  the  sound  of  her  own  voice 
startled  her.  "  Oh,  they  are  not  coming,"  she 
thought,  with  a  miserable  ache  in  her  throat, 
that  seemed  swelling  bigger  and  bigger.  "  I'll 
have  to  stay  here  in  the  woods  all  night.  Oh, 
mamma!  mamma!"  she  moaned,  "I  am  so 
scared  !  If  you  could  only  come  back  and  get 
your  poor  little  girl !  " 

Up  to  this  time  she  had  bravely  fought  back 
the  tears,  but  just  then  a  screech-owl  flapped 
down  from  a  branch  above  her  with  such  a  dis- 
mal hooting  that  she  gave  a  nervous  start  and  a 
cry  of  terror.  "  Oh,  that  frightened  me  so  !  " 
she  sobbed.  "  I  don't  believe  I  can  stand  it  to 
be  out  here  all  night  alone  with  so  many  hor- 
rible creepy  things  everywhere.  And  nobody 
cares  !  Nobody  but  papa  and  mamma,  and  they 
are  away,  way  off  in  Cuba.  Maybe  I'll  never 
see  them  any  more."  At  that  the  tears  rolled 
down  her  face,  and  she  could  not  move  a  hand 
to  wipe  them  away.  To  be  so  little  and  miser- 


l6O     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

able  and  forsaken,  so  worn  out  with  waiting  and 
so  helpless  among  all  these  unknown  horrors 
that  the  dark  woods  might  hold,  was  worse  tor- 
ture to  the  imaginative  child  than  any  bodily 
pain  could  have  been. 

It  was  just  as  her  last  bit  of  courage  oozed 
away,  and  she  began  to  cry,  that  the  boys  sud- 
denly realised  how  long  they  had  left  her. 

"  It  must  be  as  dark  as  a  pocket  in  the  woods 
by  this  time,"  exclaimed  Malcolm.  "What  do 
you  suppose  Ginger  will  say  to  us  for  leaving 
her  so  long  ?  " 

"You  will  have  to  take  a  knife  to  cut  her 
loose,"  said  Keith.  "  I  tried  to  untie  the  knots 
before  I  came  away,  but  I  couldn't  move  them." 

"My  pocket-knife  is  up-stairs,"  answered 
Malcolm.  "I'll  get  something  in  the  dining- 
room  that  will  do." 

He  was  rushing  out  again  with  a  carving-knife 
in  his  hand,  when  he  came  face  to  face  with  his 
grandmother  and  Aunt  Allison.  The  boys  had 
been  so  interested  in  their  camera  that  they  had 
not  heard  the  train  whistle,  or  the  sound  of 
footsteps  coming  up  on  the  front  veranda. 
Pete  was  lighting  the  hall  lamps  as  the  ladies 
came  in,  and  he  turned  his  back  to  hide  the  broacl 


A   GAME    OF    INDIAN.  l6l 

grin  on  his  face,  as  he  thought  of  the  sight 
which  would  soon  greet  them.  Mrs.  Maclntyre 
gave  a  gasp  of  astonishment  and  sank  down  in 
the  nearest  chair  as  Malcolm  came  dashing 
into  the  bright  lamplight. 

His  turkey  feathers  were  all  awry,  standing 
out  in  a  dozen  different  directions  from  his 
head,  his  blanket  trailed  behind  him,  and  the 
fringe  was  hanging  in  festoons  from  his  leggins, 
where  it  had  come  unpinned.  The  red  paint 
on  his  face  made  him  look  as  if  he  had  been  in 
a  fight  with  the  carving-knife  he  carried,  and 
had  had  the  skin  peeled  off  his  face  in  patches. 

Wild  as  he  looked,  his  appearance  was  tame 
beside  that  of  the  impish-looking  little  savage 
who  skipped  in  after  him,  in  the  scarlet  bedroom 
slippers,  pink  striped  bathing-suit  and  green 
striped  skin. 

"  Keith  Maclntyre,  what  have  you  been  doing 
to  yourself  ? "  gasped  his  grandmother.  Both 
boys  began  an  excited  exclamation,  but  were 
stopped  by  Miss  Allison's  question,  "Where 
is  Virginia  ?  Have  you  two  little  savages 
scalped  her  ? " 

"  She's  tied  to  a  tree  down  by  the  spring," 
answered  Malcolm.  "  We  are  just  starting 


1 62  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

down  there  now  to  cut  her  loose.  You  see  we 
were  playing  Indian,  and  she  was  tied  up  to  be 
tortured,  and  we  forgot  all  about  her  being 
there  —  " 

But  Miss  Allison  waited  to  hear  no  more. 
"The  poor  little  thing  !  "  she  exclaimed.  "Tied 
out  there  alone  in  the  dark  woods !  How  could 
you  be  so  cruel  ?  It  is  enough  to  frighten  her 
into  spasms." 

"I'm  awfully  sorry,  Aunt  Allison  !  "  began 
Malcolm,  but  his  aunt  was  already  out  of  hear- 
ing. Out  of  the  door  she  ran,  through  the 
dewy  grass  and  the  stubble  of  the  field  beyond, 
regardless  of  her  dainty  spring  gown,  or  hei 
new  patent  leather  shoes.  Malcolm  and  Keith 
dashed  out  after  her,  ran  on  ahead  and  were  at 
the  spring  before  she  had  climbed  the  fence  into 
the  woodland 

Virginia  was  not  crying  when  the  boys 
reached  her.  She  remembered  that  she  had 
once  called  Malcolm  "  Rain-in-the-face  "  because 
she  caught  him  crying  over  something  that 
seemed  to  her  a  very  little  reason,  and  she  did 
not  intend  to  give  him  a  chance  to  taunt  her  in 
the  same  way.  She  was  glad  that  it  was  too 
dark  for  him  to  notice  her  tear-swollen  eyes. 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  163 

"Whew!  It's  dark  down  here!  "  said  Keith. 
"Were  you  frightened,  Ginger?"  he  asked,  as 
he  helped  Malcolm  unfasten  the  cords  that 
bound  her.  But  Ginger  made  no  reply  to  either 
questions  or  apologies.  She  walked  on  in  dig- 
nified silence,  too  deeply  hurt  by  their  neglect, 
too  full  of  a  sense  of  the  wrong  they  had  done 
her,  to  trust  herself  to  speak  without  crying, 
and  she  intended  to  be  game  to  the  last.  But 
when  she  came  upon  Miss  Allison,  and  sud- 
denly found  herself  folded  safe  in  her  arms, 
with  pitying  kisses  and  comforting  caresses,  she 
clung  to  her,  sobbing  as  if  her  heart  would 
break. 

"  Oh,  auntie  !  It  was  so  awful !  "  was  all  she 
could  say,  but  she  repeated  it  again  and  again, 
until  Miss  Allison,  who  had  never  seen  her  so 
excited  before,  was  alarmed.  The  boys,  who 
had  run  on  ahead  to  the  house  again,  before  she 
gave  way  to  her  feelings,  were  inclined  to  look 
upon  it  all  as  a  good  joke,  for  they  had  no 
idea  how  much  she  had  suffered,  and  did  not 
like  it  because  she  would  not  speak  to  them. 
They  changed  their  minds  when  Miss  Allison 
came  out  of  Virginia's  room  a  little  later,  and 
told  them  that  the  fright  had  given  the  child 


104     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

a  nervous  chill,  and  that  she  had  cried  herself 
to  sleep. 

"  We  didn't  mean  to  do  it,"  said  Keith,  peni- 
tently. "We  just  forgot,  and  I'm  mighty 
sorry,  truly  I  am,  auntie !  " 

"  I  am  not  scolding  you,"  said  Miss  Allison, 
"but  if  I  were  either  of  you  boys,  I  wouldn't 
wear  my  little  white  flower  when  I  dressed  for 
dinner  to-night.  Instead  of  being  the  protector 
of  a  distressed  maiden,  as  the  old  knights  would 
have  said,  you  have  done  her  a  wrong,  —  a  serious 
one  I  am  afraid,  —  and  that  wrong  ought  to 
be  made  right  as  far  as  possible  before  you 
are  worthy  to  wear  the  badge  of  knighthood 
again." 

"We'll  go  and  beg  her  pardon  right  now," 
said  Malcolm. 

"  No,  she  is  asleep  now,  and  I  do  not  want 
her  to  be  disturbed.  Besides,  a  mere  apology 
is  not  enough.  You  must  make  some  kind  of 
atonement.  The  first  thing  for  you  to  do,  how- 
ever, is  to  get  some  turpentine  and  remove  that 
paint.  Where  did  you  get  it,  boys  ? " 

"  Out  of  your  paint-box,  Aunt  Allison,"  said 
Malcolm.  "We  didn't  think  you  would  care. 
I  was  only  going  to  take  a  little,  but  it 


A    GAME    OF    INDIAN.  165 

soaked  in  so  fast  that  I  had  to  use  two  tubes 
of  it." 

"  I  used  more  than  that,"  confessed  Keith, 
looking  at  her  with  his  big  honest  eyes;  "but 
I  got  so  interested  pretending  that  I  was  turning 
into  a  real  Indian,  that  I  never  thought  about 
its  being  anybody  else's  paint,  Aunt  Allison, 
truly  I  didn't !  " 

She  turned  away  to  hide  a  smile.  The 
earnest  little  face  above  the  striped  body  was 
so  very  comical.  Picking  up  several  of  the 
empty  tubes  that  had  been  squeezed  quite  flat, 
she  read  the  labels.  "Rose  madder  and  car- 
mine," she  said,  solemnly,  "two  of  my  very 
most  expensive  paints." 

"  Dear  me  !  "  sighed  Malcolm,  "  then  there's 
another  wrong  that's  got  to  be  righted.  I  guess 
Keith  and  I  weren't  cut  out  for  knights.  I'm 
beginning  to  think  that  it's  a  mighty  tough 
business  anyhow." 

That  night,  when  the  boys  came  down  to 
dinner,  no  little  white  flower  with  its  diamond 
dewdrop  centre  shone  on  the  lapel  of  either 
coat.  It  had  been  a  work  of  time  to  scrub  off 
the  paint,  and  then  it  took  almost  as  long  to 
get  rid  of  the  turpentine,  so  that  dinner  was 


1 66     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

ready  long  before  Keith  was  finally  clad  in  his 
flannels.  "  My  throat  is  sore,"  he  complained 
to  Malcolm  at  bedtime,  but  did  not  mention  it 
to  any  one  else  that  night.  He  sat  on  the  side 
of  his  bed  a  moment  before  undressing,  with  one 
foot  across  his  knee,  staring  thoughtfully  at  the 
lamp.  Presently,  with  one  shoe  in  his  hand 
and  the  other  half  unlaced,  he  hopped  over  to 
the  dressing-table  and  stood  before  it,  looking 
at  first  one  picture  and  then  another. 

Eight  different  photographs  of  his  mother 
were  ranged  along  the  table  below  the  wide 
mirror,  some  taken  in  evening  dress,  some  in 
simple  street  costume,  and  each  one  so  beauti- 
ful that  it  would  have  been  hard  to  decide 
which  one  had  the  greatest  charm. 

"  I  wish  mamma  was  here  to-night,"  said 
Keith,  softly,  with  a  little  quiver  of  his 
lip.  "Seems  like  she's  been  gone  almost 
always." 

He  picked  up  a  large  Roman  locket  of  beaten 
silver  that  lay  open  on  the  table.  It  held  two 
exquisitely  painted  miniatures  on  ivory.  One 
was  the  same  sweet  face  that  looked  out  at  him 
from  each  of  the  photographs,  the  other  was 
his  father's.  It  showed  a  handsome  young 


A  GAME  OP  INDIAN.  167 

fellow  with  strong,  clean-shaven  face,  with  eyes 
like  Keith's,  and  the  same  lordly  poise  of  the 
fine  head  that  Malcolm  had. 

"Good  night,  papa,  good  night,  mamma!" 
whispered  Keith,  touching  his  lips  hastily  to 
each  picture  while  Malcolm's  back  was  turned. 
There  were  tears  in  his  eyes.  Somehow  he  was 
so  miserably  homesick. 

Next  morning,  although  Keith's  throat  was 
not  so  sore,  he  was  burning  with  fever  by  the 
time  his  lessons  were  over.  Before  his  grand- 
mother saw  him  he  was  off  on  his  wheel  for  a 
long  ride,  and  then,  because  he  was  so  hot  when 
he  came  back,  he  slipped  away  to  the  pond  with 
the  pink  bathing-suit  under  his  coat,  and  took 
the  swim  that  he  had  been  looking  forward  to 
so  long.  Nobody  knew  where  he  was,  and  he 
stayed  in  the  water  until  his  lips  and  finger- 
nails were  blue.  The  morning  after  that  he 
was  too  ill  to  get  up,  and  Mrs.  Maclntyre  sent 
for  a  doctor. 

"  He  has  always  been  so  perfectly  well,  and 
seemed  to  have  such  a  strong  constitution,  that 
I  cannot  allow  myself  to  believe  this  will  be 
anything  serious,"  said  Mrs.  Maclntyre,  but  at 
the  end  of  the  third  day  he  was  so  much  worse 


168   TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

that  she  sent  to  the  city  for  a  trained  nurse, 
and  telegraphed  for  his  father  and  mother. 

They  had  already  left  Florida,  and  were 
yachting  up  the  Atlantic  coast  on  their  way 
home  when  the  message  reached  them. 


CHAPTER    VIII. 

"  FAIRCHANCE." 

MALCOLM  did  his  best  to  atone  to  Virginia 
for  what  she  had  suffered  from  the  forgetful- 
ness  of  the  two  little  Indians,  but  poor  Keith 
was  too  ill  to  remember  anything  about  it.  He 
did  not  know  his  father  and  mother  when  they 
came,  and  tossed  restlessly  about,  talking  wildly 
of  things  they  could  not  understand.  It  was 
the  first  time  he  had  ever  been  so  ill,  and  as 
they  watched  him  lying  there  day  after  day, 
burning  with  fever,  and  growing  white  and  thin, 
a  great  fear  came  upon  them  that  he  would 
never  be  any  better. 

No  one  put  that  fear  into  words,  but  little 
by  little  it  crept  from  heart  to  heart  like  a 
wintry  fog,  until  the  whole  house  felt  its  chill. 
The  sweet  spring  sounds  and  odours  came  rush- 
ing in  at  every  window  from  the  sunny  world 
outside,  but  it  might  as  well  have  been  mid- 
169 


I/O     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

winter.  No  one  paid  any  heed  while  that  little 
life  hung  in  the  balance.  The  servants  went 
through  the  house  on  tiptoe.  Malcolm  and 
Virginia  haunted  the  halls  to  discover  from  the 
grave  faces  of  the  older  people  what  they  were 
afraid  to  ask,  and  Mrs.  Maclntyre  was  kept 
busy  answering  the  inquiries  of  the  neighbours. 
Scarcely  an  hour  passed  that  some  one  did  not 
come  to  ask  about  Keith,  to  leave  flowers,  or 
to  proffer  kindly  services.  Everybody  who  knew 
the  little  fellow  loved  him.  His  bright  smile 
and  winning  manner  had  made  him  a  host  of 
friends. 

There  was  no  lack  of  attention.  His  father 
and  mother,  Miss  Allison,  and  the  nurse  watched 
every  breath,  every  pulse-beat ;  and  a  dozen 
times  in  the  night  his  grandmother  stole  to  the 
door  to  look  anxiously  at  the  wan  little  face  on 
the  pillow. 

"  It  is  so  strange,"  said  his  mother  to  the 
nurse  one  day.  "  He  keeps  talking  about  a 
white  flower.  He  says  that  he  can't  right  the 
wrong  unless  he  wears  it,  and  that  Jonesy  will 
have  to  be  shut  up  and  never  find  his  brother 
again.  What  do  you  suppose  he  means?  " 

The  nurse  shook  her  head.    She  did  not  know 


"FAIRCHANCE.  I/I 

Just  then  Mrs.  Maclntyre  heard  her  name 
called  softly,  "  Elise,"  and  her  husband  beck- 
oned her  to  come  out  into  the  hall.  "  I  want 
to  show  you  something  in  Allison's  room,"  he 
said,  leading  her  down  the  hall  to  his  sister's 
apartment.  On  each  side  of  the  low  writing- 
desk  stood  a  large  photograph,  one  of  Malcolm 
in  his  suit  of  mail,  the  other  of  Keith  in  the 
costume  of  jewel-embroidered  velvet,  like  the 
little  Duke  of  Gloster's. 

"  Oh,  Sydney !  How  beautiful !  "  she  ex- 
claimed, as  she  swept  across  the  room  and 
knelt  down  before  the  desk  for  a  better  view. 
Leaning  her  arms  on  the  desk,  she  looked  into 
Keith's  pictured  face  with  hungry  eyes.  "  Isn't 
he  lovely  ?  "  she  repeated.  "  Oh,  he'll  never 
look  like  that  again  !  I  know  it !  I  know  it !  " 
she  sobbed,  remembering  how  white  was  the 
little  face  on  the  pillow  that  she  had  just  left. 

Mr.  Maclntyre  bent  over  her,  his  own  hand- 
some face  white  and  haggard.  He  looked  ill 
himself,  from  the  constant  watching  and  anxiety. 
"  I'd  give  anything  in  the  world  that  I  own  ! 
Everything!"  he  groaned.  "I'd  do  anything, 
sacrifice  anything,  to  see  him  as  well  and  sturdy 
as  he  looks  there !  " 


1/2     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

Then  he  caught  up  the  picture.  "  What's 
this  written  underneath  ?  "  he  asked,  "  It  is  in 
Keith's  own  handwriting :  '  Live  pure,  speak 


tmth,  right  the  wrong,  follow  the  king.     Else 
wherefore  born  f ' 

"What  does  it  mean,  Allison?"    he  asked, 


"FAtRCHANCE.  1/3 

turning  to  his  sister,  who  was  resting  on  a 
couch  by  the  window.  "  It  is  written  under 
Malcolm's  picture,  too." 

"The  dear  little  Sir  Galahads,"  she  said, 
"I  sent  for  you  to  tell  you  about  them.  The 
boys  intended  the  pictures  as  a  surprise  for  you 
and  Elise,  so  we  never  sent  them.  They 
wanted  to  tell  you  themselves  about  the  Benefit 
and  the  little  waif  they  gave  it  for." 

She  took  a  little  pin  from  a  jewel-case  under 
the  sofa  pillows,  and  reaching  over,  dropped  it 
in  her  brother's  hand.  It  was  a  tiny  flower  of 
white  enamel,  with  a  diamond  dewdrop  in  the 
centre. 

"You  may  have  noticed  Malcolm  wearing 
one  like  it,"  she  said,  and  then  she  told  them 
the  story  of  Jonesy  and  the  bear  and  all  that 
their  coming  had  led  to  :  the  Benefit,  the  new 
order  of  knighthood,  and  the  awakening  of  the 
boys  to  a  noble  purpose. 

"  The  boys  fully  expect  you  to  stand  by  them 
in  all  this,  Sydney,"  she  said,  in  conclusion, 
"  and  play  fairy  godfather  for  Jonesy  henceforth 
and  for  ever.  One  night,  when  Keith  came  up 
to  confess  some  mischief  he  had  been  into 
during  the  day,  he  said  : 


1/4    TWO   LITTLE   KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

" '  Aunt  Allison,  this  wearing  the  white 
flower  of  a  blameless  life  isn't  as  easy  as  it 
is  cracked  up  to  be;  but  having  this  little 
pin  helps  a  lot.  I  just  put  my  hand  on  that 
like  the  real  knights  used  to  do  on  their  sword- 
hilts,  and  repeat  my  motto.  It  will  be  easier 
when  papa  comes  home.  Since  I've  known 
Jonesy,  and  heard  him  tell  about  the  hard  times 
some  people  have  that  he  knows,  it  seems  to 
me  there's  an  awful  lot  of  wrong  in  the  world 
for  somebody  to  set  right.  Some  nights  I  can 
hardly  go  to  sleep  for  thinking  about  it,  and 
wishing  that  I  were  grown  up  so  that  I  could 
begin  to  do  my  part  I  wish  papa  could  be 
here  now.  He'd  make  a  splendid  knight ;  he 
is  so  big  and  good  and  handsome.  I  don't 
s'pose  King  Arthur  himself  was  any  better  or 
braver  than  my  father  is.'" 

A  tear  splashed  down  from  the  mother's  eyes 
as  she  listened,  and,  falling  on  the  tiny  white 
flower  as  it  lay  in  her  husband's  hand,  glistened 
beside  the  dewdrop  centre  like  anothei  diamond. 

"  Oh,  Sydney ! "  she  exclaimed,  in  a  heart- 
broken way.  Something  very  like  a  sob  shook 
the  man's  broad  shoulders,  and,  turning  abruptly, 
he  strode  out  of  the  room. 


"FAIRCHANCE."  1/5 

Down  in  the  dim,  green  library,  where  the 
blinds  had  been  drawn  to  keep  it  cool,  he  threw 
himself  into  a  chair  beside  the  table.  Prop- 
ping Keith's  picture  up  in  front  of  him  against 
a  pile  of  books,  he  leaned  forward,  gazing  at 
it  earnestly.  He  had  never  realised  before 
how  much  he  loved  the  little  son,  who  hour 
by  hour  seemed  slowly  slipping  farther  away 
from  him.  The  pictured  face  looked  full  into 
his  as  if  it  would  speak.  It  wore  the  same 
sweet,  trustful  expression  that  had  shone  there 
the  night  he  talked  to  Jonesy  of  the  Hall  of 
the  Shields  ;  the  same  childish  purity  that  had 
moved  the  old  professor  to  lay  his  hands  upon 
his  head  and  call  him  Galahad. 

All  that  gentle  birth,  college  breeding,  wealth, 
and  travel  could  give  a  man,  were  Sydney 
Maclntyre's,  and  yet,  measuring  himself  by 
Keith's  standard  of  knighthood,  he  felt  him- 
self sadly  lacking.  He  had  given  liberally  to 
charities  hundreds  of  dollars,  because  it  was 
often  easier  for  him  to  write  out  a  check  than 
to  listen  to  somebody's  tale  of  suffering.  But 
aside  from  that  he  had  left  the  old  world  to 
wag  on  as  best  it  could,  with  its  grievous  load 
of  wrong  and  sorrow. 


1/6     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

A  man  is  not  apt  to  trouble  himself  as  to 
how  it  wags  for  those  outside  his  circle  of 
friends,  when  the  generations  before  him  have 
spent  their  time  laying  up  a  fortune  for  him 
to  enjoy.  But  this  man  was  beginning  to 
trouble  himself  about  it  now,  as  he  paced  rest- 
lessly up  and  down  the  room.  He  was  not 
thinking  now  about  the  things  that  usually 
occupied  him,  his  social  duties,  his  home  or 
club,  or  yacht  or  horses  or  kennels.  He  was 
not  planning  some  new  pleasure  for  his  friends 
or  family,  he  was  wondering  what  he  could  do 
to  be  worthy  of  the  exalted  regard  in  which  he 
was  held  by  his  little  sons.  What  wrong  could 
he  set  right,  to  prove  himself  really  as  noble  as 
they  thought  him  ?  He  was  their  ideal  of  all 
that  was  generous  and  manly,  and  yet  — 

"  What  have  I  ever  done,"  he  asked  himself, 
"to  make  them  think  so?  If  I  were  to  be 
taken  out  of  the  world  to-morrow,  I  would 
be  leaving  it  exactly  as  I  found  it.  Who  could 
point  to  my  coffin  and  say,  '  Laws  are  better, 
politics  are  purer,  or  times  are  not  so  hard  for 
the  masses  now,  because  this  one  man  willed  to 
lift  up  his  fellows  as  far  as  the  might  of  one 
strong  life  can  reach  ? '  But  they  will  say  that 


"FAIRCHANCE.  1/7 

of  Malcolm,  and  Keith,  if  he  lives  —  ah,  if  he 
lives ! " 

An  hour  later  the  door  opened,  and  Malcolm 
came  in,  softly.  "  Keith  is  asking  for  you, 
papa,"  he  said,  with  a  timid  glance  into  his 
father's  haggard  face.  Then  he  came  nearer, 
and  slipped  his  hand  into  the  man's  strong 
fingers,  and  together  they  went  up  the  stairs 
to  answer  the  summons. 

"  Did  you  want  me,  Keith  ?  " 

The  head  did  not  turn  on  the  pillow.  The 
languid  eyes  opened  only  half-way,  but  there 
was  recognition  in  them  now,  and  one  little 
hand  was  raised  to  lay  itself  lovingly  against 
his  father's  cheek. 

"What  is  it,  son?" 

The  weak  little  voice  tried  to  answer,  but  the 
words  came  only  in  gasps.  "  Brother  knows  — 
about  Jonesy  —  keep  him  from  being  a  tramp ! 
Please  let  me,  papa  —  do  that  much  good  — 
in  my  life  "  else  wherefore  —  born  ? '  " 

"  What  is  it,  Keith  ? "  asked  his  father,  bend- 
ing over  him.  "  Papa  doesn't  exactly  under- 
stand. But  you  can  have  anything  you  want, 
my  boy.  Anything !  I'll  do  whatever  you 
ask." 


1/8  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY 

"  Malcolm  knows,"  was  the  answer.  Then 
the  voice  seemed  somewhat  stronger  for  an 
instant,  and  a  faint  smile  touched  Keith's  lips. 
"  Give  my  half  of  the  bear  to  Ginger.  Now  — 
may  I  have  —  my  —  white  —  flower  ?  " 

Throwing  back  his  coat,  his  father  unpinned 
the  little  badge  from  his  vest,  where  he  had 
fastened  it  for  safe-keeping  a  short  time  before 
in  the  library.  A  pleased  expression  flitted 
over  the  child's  face,  as  he  saw  where  it  had 
been  resting,  and  when  it  was  fastened  in  the 
front  of  his  little  embroidered  nightshirt,  his 
hand  closed  over  the  pin  as  if  it  were  something 
very  precious,  and  he  were  afraid  of  losing  it 
again. 

"Wearing  the  white  flower,"  they  heard  him 
whisper,  and  then  the  little  knight  slept. 

It  was  hours  afterward  when  he  roused  again, 
—  hours  when  the  faintest  noise  had  not  been 
allowed  in  the  house ;  when  the  servants  had 
been  sent  to  the  cottage,  and  Unc'  Henry  sta- 
tioned at  the  front  gate,  that  no  one  might  drive 
up  the  avenue. 

Virginia,  in  a  hammock  on  the  veranda, 
Scarcely  dared  draw  a  deep  breath  till  she 


"FAIRCHANCE.  1/9 

heard  the  doctor  coming  down  the  stairs,  just 
before  dark.  Then  she  knew  by  his  face  that 
prayers  and  skill  and  tender  nursing  had  not 
been  in  vain,  and  that  Keith  would  live. 

So  much  can  happen  in  a  week.  In  the 
seven  days  that  followed  Keith  gradually  grew 
strong  enough  to  be  propped  up  in  bed  a  little 
while  at  a  time ;  Captain  Dudley  and  his  wife 
came  home  from  Cuba,  and  Mr.  Maclntyre 
began  to  carry  out  the  promise  he  had  made 
to  Keith  that  day  when  they  feared  most  he 
could  not  live. 

The  whole  Valley  rejoiced  in  the  first  and 
second  happenings,  and  were  too  much  occu- 
pied in  them  to  notice  the  third.  Carriages 
rolled  in  and  out  of  the  great  entrance  gate 
all  day  long,  for  Mrs.  Dudley  had  always  been 
a  favourite  with  the  old  neighbours,  and  they 
gave  a  warm  welcome  to  her  and  her  gallant 
husband.  Virginia  followed  her  father  and 
mother  about  like  a  loving  shadow,  and  Keith 
was  so  interested  in  the  wonderful  stories  they 
told  of  their  Cuban  experiences  that  he  never 
noticed  how  much  his  father  and  Malcolm  were 
away  from  home.  Sometimes  they  would  be 


l8O     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

gone  all  day  together,  consulting  with  the 
old  professor,  overseeing  carpenters,  or  mak- 
ing hasty  trips  to  the  city.  Jonesy's  home, 
that  had  been  so  long  only  a  beautiful  air- 
castle,  was  rapidly  taking  shape  in  wood  and 
stone,  and  the  painters  would  soon  be  at  work 
on  it. 

Mr.  Maclntyre  had  never  been  more  surprised 
than  he  was  when  Malcolm  unfolded  their  plan 
to  him.  It  did  not  seem  possible  that  two  chil- 
dren could  have  thought  of  it  all,  and  arranged 
every  detail  without  the  help  of  some  older 
head. 

"  It  just  grew,"  said  Malcolm,  in  explanation. 
"  First  Keith  said  how  lovely  it  would  have  been 
if  we  had  made  enough  money  at  the  Benefit  to 
have  bought  a  home  for  Jonesy  in  the  country, 
where  he  could  have  a  fair  chance  to  grow  up 
a  good  man.  Just  a  comfortable  little  cottage 
with  a  garden,  where  he  could  be  out-of-doors 
all  the  time,  instead  of  in  the  dirty  city  streets  ; 
then  nobody  could  call  him  a  'child  of  the 
slums '  any  more.  Then  we  said  it  would  be 
better  if  there  were  some  fields  back  of  the 
garden,  so  that  he  could  learn  to  be  a  farmer 
when  he  was  older,  and  have  some  way  to  make 


"FAIRCHANCE."  l8l 

a  living.  We  talked  about  it  every  night  when 
we  went  to  bed,  and  kept  putting  a  little  more 
and  a  little  more  to  it,  until  it  was  as  real  to 
us  as  if  we  had  truly  seen  such  a  place.  There 
were  vines  on  the  porches,  and  a  big  Newfound- 
land dog  on  the  front  steps,  and  a  cow  and  calf 
in  the  pasture,  and  a  gentle  old  horse  that  could 
plough  and  that  Jonesy  could  ride  to  water. 

"We  told  Ginger,  and  she  thought  of  a  lot 
more  things  ;  some  little  speckled  pigs  in  a  pen, 
and  kittens  in  the  hay-mow,  and  ducks  on  the 
pond,  and  an  orchard,  and  roses  in  the  yard. 
She  said  we  ought  to  call  the  place  "  Fair- 
chance,"  because  that's  what  it  would  mean  for 
Jonesy  and  Barney  (you  know  we  would  send 
for  Barney  first  thing  we  did,  of  course),  and  it 
was  Ginger  who  first  thought  of  getting  some 
nice  man  and  his  wife  to  take  care  of  the  boys. 
She  said  there  are  plenty  of  people  who  would 
be  glad  to  do  it,  just  for  the  sake  of  having 
such  a  good  home.  Ginger  said  if  we  could  do 
all  that,  and  keep  Jonesy  and  his  brother  from 
growing  up  to  be  tramps  like  the  man  we 
bought  the  bear  from,  it  would  be  serving  our 
country  just  as  much  as  if  we  went  to  war  and 
fought  for  it.  Ginger  is  a  crank  about  being  a 


1 82     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

patriot.  You  ought  to  hear  her  talk  about  it. 
And  Aunt  Allison  said  that  '  an  ounce  of  pre- 
vention is  worth  a  pound  of  cure,'  and  that  to 
build  such  a  place  as  our  '  Fairchance '  would  be 
a  deed  worthy  of  any  true  knight." 

"  How  are  you  expecting  to  bring  this  won- 
derful thing  to  pass  ? "  asked  his  father,  as 
Malcolm  stopped  to  take  breath.  "Do  you 
expect  to  wave  a  wand  and  see  it  spring  u\ 
out  of  the  earth?" 

"  Of  course  not,  papa  !  "  said  Malcolm,  a  little 
provoked  by  his  father's  teasing  smile.  "  We 
were  going  to  ask  you  to  let  us  take  the  money 
that  grandfather  left  us  in  his  will.  We  won't 
need  it  when  we  are  grown,  for  we  can  earn 
plenty  ourselves  then,  and  it  seems  too  bad  to 
have  it  laid  away  doing  nobody  any  good,  when 
we  need  it  so  much  now  to  right  this  wrong  of 
Jonesy's." 

"  But  it  is  not  laid  away,"  answered  Mr.  Mac- 
Intyre.  "  It  is  invested  in  such  a  way  that  it 
is  earning  you  more  money  every  year ;  and 
more  than  that,  it  was  left  in  trust  for  you,  so 
that  it  cannot  be  touched  until  you  are  twenty- 
one." 

"  Oh,  papa !  "  cried  Malcolm,  bitterly  disap- 


"FAIRCHANCE."  183 

pointed.  He  had  hard  work  to  keep  back  the 
tears  for  a  moment  ;  then  a  happy  thought 
made  his  face  brighten.  "You  could  lend  us 
the  money,  and  we  would  pay  you  back  when 
we  are  of  age.  You  know  you  promised  Keith 
you  would  do  anything  he  wanted,  and  that  is 
what  he  was  trying  to  ask  for  ?  " 

Mr.  Maclntyre  put  his  arm  around  the  ear- 
nest little  fellow,  and  drew  him  to  his  knee,  smil- 
ing down  into  the  upturned  face  that  waited 
eagerly  for  his  answer. 

"  I  only  asked  that  to  hear  what  you  would 
say,  my  son,"  was  the  answer.  "You  need 
have  no  worry  about  the  money.  I'll  keep  my 
promise  to  Keith,  and  Jonesy  shall  have  his 
home.  I'm  not  a  knight,  but  I'm  proud  to 
be  the  father  of  two  such  valiant  champions. 
Please  God,  you'll  not  be  alone  in  your  battles 
after  this,  to  right  the  world's  wrongs.  I'll  be 
your  faithful  squire,  or,  as  we'd  say  in  these 
days,  a  sort  of  silent  partner  in  the  enterprise." 

Several  days  after  this  a  deed  was  recorded 
in  the  county  court-house,  conveying  a  large 
piece  of  property  from  old  Colonel  Lloyd  to 
Malcolm  and  Keith  Maclntyre.  It  was  the 
place  adjoining  "The  Locusts,"  on  which  stood 


'84     TW0    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

a  fine  old  homestead  that  had  been  vacant  for 
several  years.  The  day  after  its  purchase  a 
force  of  carpenters  and  painters  were  set  to 
work,  and  two  coloured  men  began  clearing 
out  the  tangle  of  bushes  in  the  long-neglected 
garden. 

Jonesy  know  nothing  of  what  was  going  on, 
and  wondered  at  the  long  conversations  which 
took  place  between  the  old  professor  and  Mr. 
Maclntyre,  always  in  German.  It  was  the  pro- 
fessor who  found  some  one  to  take  care  of  the 
home,  as  Virginia  had  suggested.  He  recom- 
mended a  countryman  of  his,  Carl  Sudsberger, 
who  had  long  been  a  teacher  like  himself.  He 
was  a  gentle  old  soul  who  loved  children  and 
understood  them,  and  a  more  motherly  crea- 
ture than  his  wife  could  not  well  be  imagined. 
Everything  throve  under  her  thrifty  manage- 
ment, and  she  had  no  patience  with  laziness  or 
waste.  Any  boy  in  whose  bringing  up  she  had 
a  hand  would  be  able  to  make  his  way  in  the 
world  when  the  time  came  for  it. 

Mrs.  Dudley  and  Miss  Allison  helped  choose 
the  furnishings,  but  Virginia  felt  that  the  pleas- 
ure of  it  w'js  all  hers,  for  she  was  taken  to  the 
city  every  time  they  went,  and  allowed  a  voice 


"FAIRCHANCE."  185 

in  everything.  Several  trips  were  necessary 
before  the  house  was  complete,  but  by  the  last 
week  in  May  it  was  ready  from  attic  to  cellar. 

It  was  the  "  Fairchance  "  that  the  boys  had 
planned  so  long,  with  its  rose-bordered  paths, 
the  orchard  and  garden  and  outlying  fields. 
Nothing  had  been  forgotten,  from  the  big  New- 
foundland  dog  on  the  doorstep,  to  the  ducks  on 
the  pond,  and  the  little  speckled  pigs  in  the  pen. 
The  day  that  Keith  was  able  to  walk  down- 
stairs for  the  first  time,  Mr.  Maclntyre  went  to 
Chicago,  taking  Jonesy  with  him,  to  find 
Barney  and  bring  him  back.  He  was  gone 
several  days,  and  when  he  returned  there  were 
three  boys  with  him  instead  of  two  :  Jonesy, 
Barney,  and  a  little  fellow  about  five  years  old, 
still  in  dresses. 

Malcolm  met  them  at  the  train,  and  eyed  the 
small  newcomer  with  curiosity.  "  It  is  a  little 
chap  that  Barney  had  taken  under  his  wing," 
explained  Mr.  Maclntyre.  "  Its  mother  was 
dead,  and  I  found  it  was  entirely  dependent 
on  Barney  for  support.  They  slept  together  in 
the  same  cellar,  and  shared  whatever  he  hap- 
pened to  earn,  just  as  Jonesy  did.  I  hadn't  the 
heart  to  leave  him  behind,  although  I  didn't 


1 86  TWO  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

relish  the  idea  of  travelling  with  such  a  kinder- 
garten. Would  you  believe  it,  Dodds  (that's 
the  little  fellow's  name)  never  saw  a  tree  in  his 


life  until  yesterday  ?  He  had  never  been  out  of 
the  slums  where  he  was  born,  not  even  to  the 
avenues  of  the  city  where  he  could  have  seen 
them.  It  was  too  far  for  him  to  walk  alone,  and 
street-cars  were  out  of  the  question  for  him,  —  as 


"FAIRCHANCE."  1 8? 

much  out  of  reach  of  his  empty  pockets  as  the 
moon." 

"  Never  saw  a  tree !  "  echoed  Malcolm,  with 
a  thrill  of  horror  in  his  voice  that  a  life  could 
be  so  bare  in  its  knowledge  of  beauty.  "  Oh, 
papa,  how  much  '  Fairchance  '  will  mean  to  him, 
then  !  Oh,  I'm  so  glad,  and  Keith  —  why, 
Keith  will  want  to  stand  on  his  head !  " 

They  drove  directly  to  the  new  place.  It 
was  late  in  the  afternoon,  and  the  sunshine 
threw  long,  waving  shadows  across  the  yard. 
Mrs.  Sudsberger  sat  on  the  front  porch  knit- 
ting. A  warm  breeze  blowing  in  from  the 
garden  stirred  the  white  window  curtains  be- 
hind her  with  soft  flutterings.  The  coloured 
woman  in  the  kitchen  was  singing  as  she 
moved  around  preparing  supper,  and  her  voice 
floated  cheerily  around  the  corner  of  the 
house : 

"  Swing   low,   sweet   chariot,  comin'   fer   to   carry   me 

home, 

Swing  low,   sweet  char-i-0/,   comin'   fer  to  carry  me 
home ! " 

A  Jersey  cow  lowed  at  the  pasture  bars,  and 
from  away  over  in  the  woodland  came  the 


1 88     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

cooing  of  a  dove.  Three  little  waifs  had  found 
a  home. 

Mr.  Maclntyre  looked  from  the  commonplace 
countenances  of  the  boys  climbing  out  of  the 
carriage  to  Malcolm's  noble  face.  "  It  is  a 
doubtful  experiment,"  he  said  to  himself. 
"  They  may  never  amount  to  anything,  but 
at  least  they  shall  have  a  chance  to  see  what 
clean,  honest,  country  living  can  do  for  them." 
And  then  there  swept  across  his  heart,  with  a 
warm,  generous  rush,  the  impulse  to  do  as 
much  for  every  other  unfortunate  child  he 
could  reach,  whose  only  heritage  is  the  pov- 
erty and  crime  of  city  slums.  He  had  seen 
so  much  in  that  one  short  visit.  The  misery 
of  it  haunted  him,  and  it  was  with  a  happiness 
as  boyish  and  keen  as  Malcolm's  that  he  led 
these  children  he  had  rescued  into  the  home 
that  was  to  be  theirs  henceforth. 

Keith  did  not  see  "  Fairchance  "  until  Memo- 
rial Day.  Then  they  took  him  over  in  the  car- 
riage in  the  afternoon,  and  showed  him  every 
nook  and  corner  of  the  place.  There  were  six 
boys  there  now,  for  room  had  been  made  for  two 
little  fellows  from  Louisville,  whom  Mr.  Macln- 
tyre had  found  at  the  Newsboys'  Home.  "  I've 


"FAIRCHANCE."  189 

no  doubt  but  that  there'll  always  be  more  com- 
ing," he  said  to  Mr.  Sudsberger,  with  a  smile,  as 
he  led  them  in.  "  When  you  once  let  a  little 
water  trickle  through  the  dyke,  the  whole  sea  is 
apt  to  come  pouring  in." 

"  Happy  the  heart  that  is  swept  with  such 
high  tides,"  answered  the  old  German.  "  It  is 
left  the  richer  by  such  floods." 

Several  families  in  the  Valley  were  invited  tc 
come  late  in  the  afternoon  to  a  flag-raising. 
The  great  silk  flag  was  Virginia's  gift,  and 
Captain  Dudley  made  the  presentation  speech. 
He  wore  his  uniform  in  honour  of  the  occasion. 
This  was  a  part  of  what  he  said  : 

"  This  Memorial  Day,  throughout  this  wide- 
spread land  of  ours,  over  every  mound  that 
marks  a  soldier's  dust,  some  hand  is  stretched 
to  drop  a  flower  in  tender  tribute.  Over  her 
heroic  dead  a  grateful  country  wreathes  the  red 
of  her  roses,  the  white  of  her  lilies,  and  the 
blue  of  her  forget-me-nots,  repeating  even  in 
the  sweet  syllables  of  the  flowers  the  symbol  of 
her  patriotism,  — the  red,  white,  and  blue  of  her 
war-stained  banner. 

"  My  friends,  I  have  followed  the  old  flag  into 
more  than  one  battle.  I  have  seen  men  charge 


190   fwo  LITTLE  KNIGHTS  OF  KENTUCKY. 

after  it  through  blinding  smoke  and  hail  ot 
bullets,  and  I  have  seen  them  die  for  it.  No 
one  feels  more  deeply  than  I  what  a  glorious 
thing  it  is  to  die  for  one's  country,  but  I  want 
to  say  to  these  little  lads  looking  up  at  this 
great  flag  fluttering  over  us,  that  it  is  not  half 
so  noble,  half  so  brave,  as  to  live  for  it,  to  give 
yourselves  in  untiring,  every-day  living  to  your 
country's  good.  To  'let  all  the  ends  thou 
aim'st  at  be  thy  country's,  thy  God's,  and 
truth's.'  I  would  rather  have  that  said  of  me, 
that  I  did  that,  than  to  be  the  greatest  general 
of  my  day.  I  would  rather  be  the  founder  of 
homes  like  this  one  than  to  manoeuvre  success- 
fully the  greatest  battles. 

"  May  the  '  Two  Little  Knights  of  Kentucky  ' 
go  on,  out  through  the  land,  carrying  their 
motto  with  them,  until  the  last  wrong  is  righted, 
and  wherever  the  old  flag  floats  a  '  fair  chance ' 
may  be  found  for  every  one  that  lives  beneath 
it.  And  may  these  Stars  and  Stripes,  as  they 
rise  and  fall  on  the  winds  of  this  peaceful 
valley,  whisper  continuously  that  same  motto, 
until  its  lessons  of  truth  and  purity  and  unself- 
ish service  have  been  blazoned  on  the  hearts  of 
every  boy  who  calls  this  home.  May  it  help 


"FAIRCHANCE."  191 

to  make  him  a  true  knight  in  his  country's 
cause." 

There  was  music  after  that,  and  then  old 
Colonel  Lloyd  made  a  speech,  and  Virginia  and 
the  Little  Colonel  gathered  roses  out  of  the  old 
garden,  so  that  every  one  could  wear  a  bunch. 
A  little  later  they  had  supper  on  the  lawn, 
picnic  fashion,  and  then  drove  home  in  the  cool 
of  the  evening,  when  all  the  meadows  were  full 
of  soft  flashings  from  the  fairy  torches  of  a 
million  fireflies. 

With  Keith  safely  covered  up  in  a  hammock, 
they  lingered  on  the  porch  long  after  the  stars 
came  out,  and  the  dew  lay  heavy  on  the  roses. 
They  were  building  other  air-castles  now,  to  be 
rebuilt  some  day,  as  Jonesy's  home  had  been ; 
only  these  were  still  larger  and  better.  The 
older  people  were  planning,  too,  and  all  the 
good  that  grew  out  of  that  quiet  evening  talk 
can  never  be  known  until  that  day  comes  when 
the  King  shall  read  all  the  names  in  his  Hall 
of  the  Shields. 

"  It  has  been  such  a  beautiful  day,"  said 
Virginia,  leaning  her  head  happily  against  her 
mother's  shoulder.  Then  she  started  up,  sud- 
denly remembering  something.  "  Oh,  papa !  " 


I Q2     TWO    LITTLE    KNIGHTS    OF    KENTUCKY. 

she  cried,  "  let's  end  it  as  they  do  at  the  fort, 
with  the  bugle-call.  I'll  run  and  get  my  old 
bugle,  and  you  play  'taps.'" 

A  few  minutes  later  the  silvery  notes  went 
floating  out  on  the  warm  night  air,  through  all 
the  peaceful  valley ;  over  the  mounds  in  the 
little  churchyard,  wreathed  now  with  their 
fresh  memorial  roses ;  past  "  The  Locusts " 
where  the  Little  Colonel  lay  a-dreaming.  Over 
the  woods  and  fields  they  floated,  until  they 
reached  the  flag  that  kept  its  fluttering  vigil 
over  "  Fairchance." 

Jonesy  sat  up  in  bed  to  listen.  Many  a 
reveille  would  sound  before  his  full  awakening 
to  all  that  the  two  little  knights  had  made 
possible  for  him,  but  the  sweet,  dim  dream  of 
the  future  that  stole  into  his  grateful  little 
heart  was  an  earnest  of  what  was  in  store  for 
him.  Then  the  bugle-call,  falling  through  the 
starlight  like  a  benediction,  closed  the  happy 
day  with  its  peaceful  "  Good  night." 


THE  END. 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 

Los  Angeles 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


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J6lilis 


